Darcy Lewis: Muggle Studies Professor
by WintersPheonix
Summary: At the awed looks spreading across the sea of faces, Severus smirks. His wife is a force to contend with, and she is ready to take Hogwarts by storm, whether it's ready or not doesn't matter. AKA: Darcy takes Hogwarts. Valhalla or Hel (anyone honestly) help them!
1. Prologue

"Ah, my dear boy, do come in." At this invitation, he glides into the room, holding back a sneer at the ridiculous endearment that the older man tends to use. "Do sit down! Sugar Quill?" Severus declines the candy and remains standing.

"Headmaster, it has come to my attention that you are in need of a Muggle Studies professor this coming year. Have you filled the position yet?"

"Your knowledge is correct, Severus. Professor Burbage has recently decided to resign. While there are multiple candidates that have already been brought up and thought upon for the position, I have yet to make a decision." There's that infuriating twinkling  
in the elder wizard's eyes, and now the interlocking of the fingers as well. "You've not shown any interest in the position before now. Tell me, my dear boy, what has changed?"

Again, he hides the cringe at the demeaning and annoying nickname. "I would like to nominate my wife's name as a potential candidate for this position. Having been hired for a similar position as an educator before, I feel that she would be an excellent  
choice."

"Wife, Severus? You're married?"

"Yes, Headmaster, for a little while now, actually."

"My, that is a surprise. Now, tell me, is your dear wife aware that she has been volunteered to teach here at Hogwarts?"

"Indeed, she is, Albus."

"Very well then, Severus, I shall consider her as a potential professor for the position. You will be informed of my decision promptly."

"Thank you, Albus." Just as he is about to exit the room with a billow of his robes, a thought that seems prudent to address comes into his mind. "I almost forgot. If Darcy, my wife, is indeed selected to join the rank of professor here at Hogwarts, I  
believe that is vital that you are aware that due to certain circumstances that are sure to arise and her other profession, she will come and go from the grounds semi-frequently and that there may even be short periods of time where she is neededelse-where.  
Should such a time happen during a class of hers, I would like to suggest that I step in as a substitute teacher in her absence as I would be far more familiar with her teaching style that anyone else."

"I appreciate you informing me of this now. Thank you. I have much to think on before I make the final decision."

"I shall leave you to it then. Good day, Headmaster."

"Good day, my boy."

With that, he sweeps out of the room.


	2. Part 1: Severus

Severus stands at the front of the classroom, an uninterested look on his face while the students cower at his command that they begin brewing their pathetic attempts at potions. Inwardly, he smirks at his apparent continued ability to strike fear into the annoying brats. Of course, that's when his wife decides to show up looking all bedraggled from a case of lack of sleep, still in her pajamas (an old, worn AC-DC t-shirt and Black Widow shorts) of all things and barely half-awake. Amused, he watches as she trudges between the students' tables, completely unaware of stares she's drawing on her. In fact, he doubts she even knows that she's somehow not in the Tower still. She then makes her way over to his cup of coffee, more than likely not knowing that she's about to consume the dark liquid and not her morning dose of Chai.

She gulps it down so quickly that he doubts she was actually able to taste it properly. Then the aftertaste comes, and she's scrunching her nose as a slight shiver runs down her spine. "Asshole," she grumbles under her breath quiet enough that only he could hear the insult. Then, loud enough that everyone can hear, "You're lucky I didn't marry you for your choice in drinks, buddy. That shit is fucking horrible. How the hell can you drink that?" Giggles and scandalized whispers come from the students watching with rapt attention at the cusses and blunt words his wife has said unashamedly.

"Darcy, what are you doing here?" he asks in an amused tone as she collapses into the chair behind the desk in a heap, unaware of the surprised but evaluating eyes of the students on them.

She sends him a look, and he conjures up a large mug of Chai for her. She drinks this one only slightly slower than the last one. Hoping that she's at least a bit more awake now that she's had a spot of caffeine to jump start her system, he poses his question again.

"Huh? What do you mean-" she trails off when she notices something. The smell of the attempted potions currently going unmonitored is foul as it wafts around the room. "Holy shit, Sev! Damnit! I told you no more doing that magical brewing thing in the morning! It always smells like shit!" She hops up and rushes to Longbottom's failure of a potion currently bubbling incorrectly, completely missing the stunned young wizard and his partner. She grabs a nearby towel and takes it off the small fire, thus interrupting its brewing process. "What the hell? Even Janey could've done better than that, and this shit isn't even anywhere near her expertise! It's too early in the morning for this."

He keeps a chuckle from escaping his lips but does cross his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow at her dramatic reaction. "Darcy, look around."

She does, and her reaction is comical to him. She stiffens and makes a show of slowly turning on the balls of her feet to look at him with shock clear on her face. "What the fuck, Severus? It is too early for your shit," she hisses.

"You make the mistake of assuming that this is my fault. I had nothing to do with your being here, though I will admit to being part of the reason for your being here at the castle."

"Nope. You don't get to play high and mighty. Not with me. You had to have had something to-Clint! That asshole! This is still kinda your fault, you know! Ever since you connected that flew thingy to our fireplace at the Tower, everyone's decided that shoving people and shit through it is the bestest thing since Thor and Tony got into a piss fight over whose girlfriend was more badass, which might I add, is still ongoing!" She smacks her forehead.

"First of all, it is called a Floo network, and I had to install it since I can't apparate directly into the school like I can at the Tower. Secondly, the shit you are referring to was Nat's Bites, which Clint paid dearly for by having to hide each time she was within the same vicinity. Last, Clinton didn't do this as a prank. I take it you don't remember what day or month it is, yes?"

"Nope. I do know it's early ass o'clock, and that my dearest Clinton is getting his coffee switched to decaf for at least a month."

"Darcy, it's Monday, September 12, and it's 10:30 A.M. Do you at all recall me informing you that your phone would become a portkey? Actually, I'm quite impressed that you didn't notice the portkey take effect, made it to my classroom, and all while still more than 80% asleep."

"I blame Clint. Oh! So that's why I thought I had the motherfucker of hangovers when I first woke up! Eh, I just asked this random kid in those weird robes where the scariest teacher person was, cause, you know, you are you."

He shakes his head minisculy, holding in a chuckle. "Anyways, you have just ruined two students' miserable attempt at a potion. I believe that it would be safer for all involved if you come sit at my desk for the remainder of the class period so as to avoid any more accidents or go catch up on some sleep in our rooms."

"Sleep. Wait a minute...the 12th? Fuck. So...um...when's my first class?"

"You don't start until tomorrow morning at 9:30. I have arranged it so that you only have classes on Tuesday and Thursday. Now, go find our quarters and get some sleep. Valhalla knows how much you need it. Button!" With a pop, a house elf apparates into the room. "Take Darcy to our quarters." The elf nods before going over to his wife and grabbing her hand. With one more pop, the pair disappear.

Snape turns and snarls at the students gaping stupidly at him. "Get back to your pathetic attempts at a potion!" Walking over to the pair whose potion had been further ruined by his wife, he says, "Longbottom, Potter, don't bother trying to make another batch. You won't have time. While I'm sure whatever your potion had been before my wife had disrupted the procedure was dreadful as usual, she did absolutely ruin it. I'm feeling generous. Both of you receive an E for this assignment. Since you are still required to remain in class, you may start working on the essay about the ingredients required for this potion. Now, get to it."

The rest of the class is spent mostly in silence aside from the bubbling of potions and preparation of ingredients. Under his glare, none of the students are brave enough to even attempt to talk about Darcy within his classroom. Once the students have given him their so-called potions and left, he locks up his classroom before heading to their rooms since he has about half an hour before his next engagement.

Inside the privacy of his own rooms, he quickly divests himself of the ridiculous robes he's forced to wear within the halls of this castle and places them on a chair. Then he quietly walks into his bedroom to check on his wife. He finds her perfectly both cocooned in blankets but also managing to take up nearly all of his queen sized bed as she splays across it on her front with her head tilted to towards him. The sight brings a smile to his lips. Despite her being a small woman, his wife always manages to take up so much room. He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches to lightly caress the side of her face. At his touch, she sighs and moves slightly in her sleep. He leans down and places a kiss on her cheek before standing.

He goes into his living room and pulls out the Stark phone that he always keeps in his pocket. He quickly dials Pepper.

"Pepper Potts. How may I help you?" the redhead answers.

"Hello, Pepper."

"Severus! Hi, what can I do for you? Is everything alright?"

"Everything is perfectly fine. I just wanted to inform you that it appears that Darcy is with me at Hogwarts, so as to keep you and the others from worrying about her disappearance from the Tower."

"Oh, alright. Thank you so much for letting me know, Severus. I'm glad Darcy made it safely. I will see you soon?"

"Darcy and I have weekends off, so we should be able to come visit during the weekends throughout the year. In addition, Darcy only has to teach on Tuesday and Thursday, so she'll most likely spend the majority of her free time away from the castle since there's really only so much to do around here and she's still the Head of her department, which means she'll want to be close by in case something comes up again.

"That's great! Well, we'll see you around!"

"Goodbye, Pep." With that, he ends the call. Satisfied that the world won't burn down or otherwise be destroyed without his wife to stop it, he _accio_ 's a pile of essays, makes himself comfortable, and starts grading until he needs to leave for his next batch of brats.

That night right before dinner he decides that it would be a smart idea to wake Darcy so that she can eat, which brings him back to his bedside and his wife who has barely changed position since earlier. _What am I going to do with you, my love,_ he thinks fondly at her less than attractive position. He reaches out and softly rubs her back. "Darce, love, it's time to get up. Wake up. You need to eat dinner. Wake up," he gently coaxes. In response, he gets a series of grunts and groans.

"Food isn't that important," she grumbles. Even though he knows she can't see it, he raises an entertained eyebrow.

"Darcy, get up. We'll get dinner, and then you can come right to bed. You don't even have to change your clothes. All you have to do is go to our living room, and I'll have dinner delivered to us."

She lets out a grunt as she slowly peals her eyes open. "Ngh, where am I? Sev, what are you doing here? I thought you left days ago for Hogwarts."

"Darcy, love, you arrived here earlier today, barging into my classroom in the middle of a lesson. Don't you remember anything at all?"

"What? Shit, really? No!"

"Now, do you want to eat here or in the Hall, which is where everyone else will be dining? I do not prefer one place or the other."

"... Since I don't remember getting here, I'm gonna assume I didn't make the best first impression today, so I guess we should probably eat with the others. Maybe I can redeem myself."

"Alright. However, I must take back what I said before about not needing a change of clothes. You'll want to change into day clothes." She glances down at her pj's with a sigh. He knows better than to tell a woman what to wear, especially his wife, but he also knows that she might not want to wear such casual clothing during her first introduction to the entire school where she will be teaching.

"Yeah, you're right. If it were the team, I'd totally be okay with this, but since I'll be teaching the little rugrats, I guess I should try for something a bit more professional."

A few moments later, and the pair are walking out of his rooms hand-in-hand. Darcy had quickly slipped on a simple gray tunic and black leggings. She had also thrown her hair up in a bun with minimal makeup applied. As they stroll, he points things out and explains them as she listens with rapt attention. When they make it to their destination, the Hall is already abuzz with chatter. Instead of choosing to walk in through the main doors, he directs them to the teachers' door, which is off the back wall right behind the Heads' table. That way he hopes it will be easier to slip in, eat, and slip out quickly without giving the other teachers, who are no doubt curious about his Darcy, the idea that they want to chat.

Unfortunately, when they sit down, it's obvious that many of the students have already noticed the newest addition to the Heads' table at his side. He really can't be too annoyed at them, though, since whenever Darcy is in a room, she brightens it just with her outgoing and warm presence, which is one of the many, many things that he loves about her. Since they were a little late coming in, the food has already appeared, prompting Darcy to just tuck right in at the sight of it all. In contrast to his regular-sized portion of food, she simply piles anything that looks appetizing high onto her plate and immediately inhales an impressive fraction of it, tuning out the rest of the world as she inhales the sustenance.

He eats with an amused smirk on his pale face as he watches the other professors' faces contort into expressions of intrigue. After inhaling a minimum of a third of the stuff on her plate, Darcy finally comes up for air and drink, which she consumes at a much easier and more manageable speed. "Whew. I don't think I've eaten more than a couple pop tarts, glorious pop tarts but pop tarts all the same, in days," she says with contented awe in her tone.

"Darcy, you need to take better care of yourself. Just because you're the Head doesn't mean you get to neglect yourself in favor of work. Thankfully, with you being required to attend meals on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I know you'll actually be eating instead of forgetting," he remarks.

She sighs. "I know, Severus, I know I've become worse than even Jane, but ugh dammit. I tell myself I'm actually going to eat, but then something comes up, normally on your peoples' side, might I add, and I get so caught up in it that I don't realize it's pretty much time for dinner by then! My position is still so new that I hardly have time for anything but managing it."

"I know that with everything being so new right now that you're a very busy woman, but hopefully once everything has been given the time to actually settle in, you'll be able to delegate easily." Then, he has to ask the question that's been bothering him. "Darcy, why did you agree to teaching here if you knew you were going to be so busy?"

"Everything was fine when I agreed!" She lets out a long drag of air.

"Mrs. Snape, it is an honor to finally meet the mysterious wife of our dear Severus here. Unfortunately, I'm sorry to say that he hasn't told us much about you. In fact, many of us didn't even know he was married in the first place until he mentioned you as a candidate for a teaching position here," Minerva gently informs his wife in an almost hesitant tone. "Please tell us about yourself."

"First of all, it's actually Lewis. I kept my last name, but call me Darcy or Lewis. As for the whole not mentioning thing, I'm gonna guess that was mostly for...erm..safety reasons. Now, what would you like to know?" Darcy replies with a smile in between bites.

"I am curious as to how long you have been married."

"It's been about 3ish years now."

"I overheard you and Severus talking about a previous job. May I ask what that was?"

"Actually, I still work there. I'm the liaison between my team and...anyone they end up having to work with, government or otherwise included."

"So you work with MACUSA?"

"Bless you." Surprise flickers across Minerva's face at the blessing, so Darcy turns to him in confusion.

He holds back a chuckle as he leans in to whisper in her ear, "My dear, MACUSA is the American wizarding government. It stands for The Magical Congress of the United States of America." Understanding dons brightly on her face at his explanation.

She turns back to Minerva. "Oh! Well then, yes. I suppose I work with MACUSA on some occasions, but my main work is with other teams that work directly with my team."

"Oh, well that is exciting. Tell me, what does your team do?"

"They're kind of like Aurors, but much more specialized in who they deal with. Severus is on it, actually, but he's mainly a backup during your school year since he teaches here. Otherwise, he's one of the original members and goes on missions with them whenever needed."  
Again, the eyebrows of everyone within hearing distance raise at this new knowledge.

Having finished his meal, he rolls his eyes and stands, holding out his hand to Darcy. She takes it and stands too. Just as they're about to leave the table, Dumbledore stops them. "Severus, my boy, wouldn't your wife like to be Sorted before you retire for the night?" he calls. Somehow, the hall quiets considerably at his question, probably in anticipation of which House she'll join. He smirks, already knowing that Darcy will have something to say to Dumbledore's answer.

Darcy whips around with an annoyed glare in her eyes. "Firstly, buddy, how about addressing a question concerning me to me. I am right here and can answer for myself. Severus does not need to answer for me. Now, I get it. I'm new and you don't know me, but I am right fucking here. I will not tolerate being ignored in favor of my husband when the topic involves a decision that will ultimately be decided by me. As for the whole Sorting thing, it is bullshit. I've heard all about your Houses thing, and as far as I can tell, it only leads to unnecessary, toxic prejudice between students based on their house. So, no thank you. I would not like to be Sorted."

At the awed looks spreading across the sea of faces, Severus smirks. His wife is a force to contend with, and she is ready to take Hogwarts by storm, whether it's ready or not doesn't matter.


	3. Part 2: Darcy

_Sorry this isn't a brand new chapter for those of you who were hoping it was, I had just changed and updated some things that have been bugging me and hindering my ability to carry on with the story. If you glance back at the chapter, you will notice that it now says 4th year, which means that yes, I will be incorporating the Tournament and everything that it entails. I have also mentioned that the cells are called "mobiles" instead of just "cells." Thank you, Belizi, for pointing that out!_

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Darcy's first class of the day, year, at Hogwarts overall, is with a group of 4th years from all Houses since apparently they're grouped together and stuff after 3rd year because not enough students from each House had signed up for her class, which is apparantly an elective. Oh well, sucks for them! They'll be missing out on her awesomeness. Thankfully, she's pretty sure Draco is in it, so awesomeshit right there. Good thing, good things. As the students pile in, she watches as they segregate themselves by House, which she can tell by the little badges pinned to their robes. See, Dumbles? Bullshit, she thinks at the sight. And you wonder how that Voldy Moldy dude gained power.

Once everyone is settled into their seats, she tries to talk. "Hello, I'm Professor Lewis, but you can-" Except for Draco and his little gang, who she's pretty sure he made hush up and listen, everyone else is too busy talking to each other to hear her. She rolls her eyes. Sure, she doesn't have the commanding presence of her husband, magic on her side, or experience as a teacher here, but she will sooner pledge allegiance to the assholes of hydra before she lets anyone ignore her in her own classroom. She swiftly puts two fingers in her mouth and lets out an earpiercing whistle that makes everyone freeze in fear. She crosses her arms across her chest and beams a satisfied smirk. Ha! The Whistle of Lewis works on both students, cranky government peoples, scientists, superheros...etc. It is totally all inclusive.

"I have your attention? Good. Now, before anything else, I want you all to know that I will not tolerate bullying, prejudice, or general assholery in this classroom. I see anything of the sort, and guess what? I automatically deduct 50 points from your House and your overall grade goes down 5%. I was informed that as this is an elective, you all chose this class, which means you are here voluntarily. I expect you to show that. Over 50% of your grade for this class is participation, so that doesn't mean you get to sit down and then zone out. If you chose this class for an easy grade, I suggest you get out and choose something else. Participate, and this could be really fun, okay?" Thankfully, no one gets up. "Now, ready for some fun?" At the hesitant nods, she smiles brightly. "Awesome! For those who don't know me, which, actually, I think is everyone but Drake, I'm Darcy Lewis. Technically, you're supposed to call me Professor Lewis, but what Dumbles doesn't know won't kill him, at least in this case, so within the classroom, call me Darcy. Outside of it, you can call me Ms. Darcy or Ms Lewis to placate the old man. No Mrs. or Miss cuz that's just reflects traditional gender roles that reveals sexist roles and a whole lot of other fucked up shit, so just don't do it. Also, no, I didn't take Severus' name, so Snape is out too. All right? All right, cool. Now, I'm totally fine with a little friendly competition between students and Houses, but like I said, I'm not going to tolerate prejudice based on House or anything really, so everyone get up."

With confused glances, they all do as she says. "I've made a list and grouped you all into groups of four, one from each house. Don't like the people in your group? Well sorry, but get over it or get out of my classroom. Now, when I call your name, come up to the front." And so it really begins, the beginning of her first Muggle Studies class ever. She goes down the list until she finally sees Drake's name, which brings another smile to her face. She's put him in with Terry Boot, Neville Longbottom, and Hannah Abbott. Only one more group, and then everyone has been given a list. Then she has them all sit down at a table together.

"So, I've never actually taught this before, so please just bear with me this year. I'm usually pretty good at remembering names, so just give me a bit please. Thanks. Now." She pulls out her Stark phone and an iPhone. (Sorry, Tony, but since your shit isn't actually that common, you can't be the only example.) "Who knows what this is?" Only a handful of students hold their hands up, almost all of them hesitantly too. "Cool. Drake, what is this?"

"It's a Stark phone and an iPhone, both of them versions of a cellular device," he says proudly.

"5 points to Slytherin. Yep, these are both versions of a cellular device, or just plain old cell phones or 'cells' if you prefer." At the still confused looks, she adds, "You might be more be more familiar with the word 'telephone' or 'mobile' as you Brits prefer to call them." And they are, if the understanding in their eyes is anything to go by. "Mobiles are just a type of telephone, and as of today until the last day of the year, you all have one. Drake, mind coming up here and passing them out?" Her platinum blonde godson gets and goes to the box of 6th generation iPhones. Then he starts handing one out to each student until everyone has one. Despite the fact that he already has a Stark Phone, he grabs one for himself too, which Darcy approves of because she highly doubts it would be a good idea to let others know about his phone since that would lead to questions about why he even has one in the first place, and neither of them want to answers those types of question just yet. "Now, as he does that, everyone else pay close attention because I'm going to explain the phones to you. Don't be ashamed if you need to take notes. It's a lot of information to take in."

Once everything is in order and everyone has a phone, she begins instructions on how to use it. Each phone is already programmed with a number, data, some restrictions, and apps. Next, she tells them how to begin personalizing it. After the bare basics have been gone through and thoroughly explained, she lets them spend the rest of the class period exchanging numbers and just plain old exploring their new electronic device. She does make sure, though, that everyone at the very least has the numbers of each person in their own group in their contacts before letting them mingle with the rest of the class. She also makes sure that they know that they'll need to recharge the battery once it hits 5% or lower, which is just a simple spell that she tells them to look up as part of homework.

A girl with bushy brown hair with a Gryffindor badge comes up to her. "Ms, how can these even work? It says in 'Hogwarts: A History' that muggle electronics can't work here because of all the wards and spells placed on the castle."

"Well, Ms...?"

"Granger. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Well, Ms Granger, Severus and a couple friends of ours have been working on this for years. Just recently, about a year ago actually, they made a breakthrough, and the rest is history. 10 points to Gryffindor for an excellent question."

"Oh, how fascinating! Thank you, Ms Darcy." Then Hermione returns to her friends.

"Aunt D, do you think this will work to call mum or dad?" Drake asks as he walks up to her, referring to the iPhone in his hand.

"Oh! Thanks for bringing that up, Drake. 10 points to Slytherin. No, they only work with other phones in my Muggle Studies class." Another whistle, this one a bit kinder on the ears, and everyone once again pauses to listen. "Hey, Drake just brought up an excellent point. These phones will only work with other phones that I'll be giving to my other years, so they won't work say, to call your parents if they have a phone. In fact, I think they might only work on the Hogwarts grounds and maybe that town, Hogsmeade, but they for sure only work with other phones that I'm giving out for the purpose of this class."

The rest of the class goes by with ease. The only homework she assigns is that they have to be able to show her that they can successfully send and receive a text message, make and receive a phone call, and that they need to figure out the spell to recharge their phones, which she had given them the hint that it involved electricity. She also gives them a heads up that they're expected to be able to recite from memory their own phone number by the end of September so that they can start working on it. Just before letting them loose, she makes them all form a line in front of her so that she can make a list that'll tell her each students' name and phone number. Then she tells them to not be afraid to come find her with any questions they may have about their new devices before releasing them.

All in all, Darcy considers her class a success. Now, for the rest of the day. Whew, no sweat. Right?

By the end of the day, Darcy is pretty exhausted, but also pretty satisfied with how each class had gone. Despite the various ages and years, she ended up keeping the stuff she taught about the same across the board since she figured that they're all pretty even in their knowledge of muggle stuff, which actually proved to be true. It became seriously obvious to her that whoever the last professor was, they definitely hadn't spent much time in the muggle part of the world recently since nearly none of the students knew what the common iPhone was when she asked. The Stark phone, she understood that it wouldn't be something even most muggles knew. However, iPhones are everywhere, so she highly doubts that the last Muggle Studies professor had been outside of the magical world recently, if ever. Ergo, it means that despite the difference in age and year, each student is pretty much about the same level in muggle knowledge, the only exception being a couple of the muggle-borns and Drake.

Darcy collapses next to her husband on their couch in their quarters with a contented huff. She curls right up next to him with her head on his shoulder, to which he responds by wrapping an arm around her waist absentmindedly and not as a show of superiority or stupid male possessiveness. "How did it go?" he asks as he looks over the rest of September's schedule for one of his classes.

"I think it went just fine. Actually, I kinda had some fun! I might not suck at this as much as I thought I would!"

His body rumbles as he lets out a chuckle. "I knew it would be an experience for you, but I never once thought you would 'suck' as you so eloquently put it, darling. I'm glad you're enjoying it."

"Aw, thanks, love. So, I've been thinking, and I think that I need to head back to the Tower and sort out some shit before dinner tonight. Then, I'll just stay here tomorrow and get to know the students, grounds, and I guess maybe other teachers tomorrow. Also, I need you to show me that recharging spell for the phones since that was part of their homework, and I have no idea how to do it." She may not have magic to actually complete the spell, but at least she'll be able to discern if her students are doing it correctly, and if they aren't, point out what they're doing wrong.

"I'm nearly finished writing up this month's schedule, then I can go with you since I'm also done with classes for the day. I think exploring the grounds and getting to know people is an excellent plan for tomorrow. As for the spell, I will show you tonight after dinner." She beams up at him.

She's totally a muggle through and through, not even a bit of Squib, but he's never minded. In fact, even though they both know she doesn't have a smidge of magiciness in her veins, he always agrees to showing her various movements required for different spells. He also never lords it over her like he's some superior being or treats her like an accessory for being unable to use magic like him. The way he treats her as an equal, even with their very different abilities, is one of the things that she loves about him.

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 _Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!_


	4. Part 3: Severus

**WOW! JUST. WOW. I am so fucking flattered and amazed this story has gotten so many hits already and has readers from all over the world. Thank you all! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AMAZING HUMANS!**

 **So...who's ready to fuck some canon shit up?! Me!**

 **Alright, this chapter might be confusing, but I am always open to talk and explain anything unless it directly involves spoilers.**

 **Sorry for the wait, guys! I'm going to try and make it so each chapter alternates POVs between Severus and Darcy and it was Severus' turn and I just didn't have a whole lot of inspo since I had way too many ideas coming from Darcy.**

 **LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! PLEASE!**

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"Little one, get up," his mother's voice pushed through the hazy muck of his mind. Instantly, he's on high alert. He blinked the sleep from the from his eyes and found his mother leaning over him, fully dressed in her combat gear.

"Mom-Natalia?" He was only allowed to call her "Momma" when they were certain they're alone, and they both knew that not even his room was safe enough to consider bug free.

"Hush, Little Wolf, we need to be very quiet now. You will need to carry light, but you may grab one toy. Now, go quickly while I grab other things," she told him before quickly going to his little box of clothing. He hurriedly got up and crawled his way over to the corner of his mattress where his few toys were hidden under the mattress. Technically, he shouldn't even have any toys to begin with, but his parents had managed to sneak a handful of small toys into the facility that they'd gotten for him while on missions.

He carefully lifted the corner of his mattress to reveal his cherished hoard. A stuffed gray wolf no bigger than the palm of his papa's hand. A miniature car model. A worn, stuffed bear that had silver tape wrapping around its left arm courtesy of his momma to make it look like Papa's arm. A pocket-sized coloring book with an accompanying set of crayons. After a moment of deliberation, he easily chose his gray wolf, his Sasha. He grabbed Sasha and held her close to his chest.

His momma came up behind him. "You are sure, yes?" she asked.

"Yes," he said quietly with a nod.

She slung a backpack off her should and held it out to him. "Put her in here. It'll keep her safe. Then take off your pj's and put them in here too. I put out an outfit for you next to your pillow. Hurry, my wolf, we do not have time." He obeyed as fast as his little limbs would allow. Then he was slipping on the backpack, which was his size, onto his small frame without a word. "Come," was all she said before they were leaving his little shoebox of a room, most likely for the last time, he thought.

He followed her to the room where the Handlers kept the facility's weapons. Papa was already there, laden with weapons of various sort and a pack of his own slung over his back. Papa stood guard while Little Wolf and Momma hurried into the room and swiftly loaded up on as many weapons as they could possibly carry. Once they both were as fully armed as they could be, they went back over to Papa. Together the trio made their way down the halls to the exit, silently taking out anyone they found as they went.

He may have only been around six years old, but he had also been trained to kill since before he could walk and was well on his way to becoming just as deadly as his parents.

By the time they had reached the main gate, the last barrier between them and the outside world, the rest of the facility was awake as well. Now, the three of them were running at a dead sprint full on, no longer needing to sneak around with silent steps. Papa had even pulled him into his metal arm so that he wouldn't fall behind. They burst past the doors into the courtyard, the only thing left between them and the rest of the world was the gate and the sea of guards that had poured into the yard.

"Widow, Soldier, take the boy and go back to your rooms now," a Handler in front of them instructed in a crisp, clear voice.

Little Wolf watched as Papa reached behind his back to pull out a large gun, cock it, and then shoot the Handlers right in the space between his eyes, all the while carefully setting him down and all within the time it takes to blink. From that first bullet, the three of them began to push their way through the throng of Guards to one of the trucks they'd spotted. Momma ran and took down a plethora of Guards using a combination of hand-to-hand combat and shooting with ease as she made her way to the vehicle. Papa, ever the sniper and gunman, picked off lines and layers of the sea of them with his guns, and when some unlucky Guard actually made it close enough, he easily snapped their neck with his bare hands. As for Little Wolf himself, he used a combination of physical technique and weaponry to take down anyone who came at him.

Despite all the bodies of now dead Guards now littering the ground of the courtyard, more and more seems to take their place. When he reached the truck, Momma was already in the driver's seat, revving up the engines, and Papa was mere feet from the vehicle, facing the mass of Guards coming towards them and unleashing wave after wave of bullets into the mass. Seeing this, he climbed into the vehicle next to Momma.

Then a voice rang out above the gunshots on the overhead speakers, strong and firm.

"Longing. Rusted. Seventeen."

At the sound of the words, Papa falters, shooting bullets at a slower pace. Little Wolf could even hear his papa grunting as he tried to stay focused, but he wasn't sure why he was having such a hard time. They were just words, right?

"Daybreak. Furnace. Nine."

After these words, Papa was now hissing and loudly grunting and had dropped his gun, not out of fear but in an attempt to cover his ears, blocking out the words flooding the air.

"Natalia, go! Now! Get him out of here!" Papa shouted. Momma nodded stoically.

"Little Wolf, sit down," she told him as she revved the engines again.

"Wolf, my little wolf, listen to her and be a good boy for your momma. Okay? Now go, both of you! Hurry!" his papa shouted before he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily but again trying to fire as many bullets as he could at the Guards surrounding them. Even as he was fighting a losing battle with the words, he was trying to clear them a path out of there.

Momma stomped on the gas, and then they were tearing out the courtyard and away from the compound at high speeds. The Handler's voice evanescing with each passing second until it no longer reached Little Wolf's ears at even the quietest of decibels.

Moments later, the last thing he knew was that they were driving as far as they could from the facility as fast as they could before the world went black.

When the world came back to him, he found that they were still in the stolen truck, dashing across the earth, still putting as much distance between them and the compound as they could before they ran out of fuel. He glimpsed out the window and found the world outside whizzing past at a dizzying pace. Then he dared to glance at Momma and found her silently allowing a minuscule trail of tears to flow down her cheeks. At first, he was confused as to why she was sad. They had left that place just like they wanted! That was supposed to be good, right? Yes, Papa wasn't with them right now, but surely he'd find them…then it hit him. No. Papa wasn't coming back. The Handlers will put Papa in the Chair and make him forget them again. And this time, they wouldn't leave any memories of them behind.

Finally, after this revelation, he cried. Not loud screaming, but pathetic little sniffles and little rolling rivers of liquid. Not taking her eyes off the road, she took one hand off the wheel and gently pulled him to her side, all the while maintaining the breakneck speed. He simply curled up against her and let out even more whimpering sobs. Together, they shed tears in resignation and sadness, saying goodbye to his papa and her Yasha for what Little Wolf knew would be the last time in a very long time, if ever again.

When they stopped for a rest, the fuel gauge was showing just barely above empty. It was honestly unsurprising to see such a low amount since they're been tearing across the earth for miles upon miles. However, they both knew that they still weren't anywhere near safe yet. Perhaps if they made it out of Russia, they could at least breathe a tiny bit easier, but, even at his young age, Little Wolf knew that they'd always have to look over their shoulder until every last stone of the Red Room had been destroyed.

"Severus," a voice calls out to him. "Sev, wake up. Please wake up."

He claws his way to consciousness and opens his eyes to see Darcy leaning over him, a deeply distressed expression practically burned onto her face. He looks down to find he's in a bed, their bed, sweat barely forming in droplets on his bare chest. They're both breathing hard enough that they're near panting. Her hair is loose and falling in a curtain around her face, framing it. Worry has been etched into her face like a personality into marble and she's searching his face for some kind of explanation. A soft, very visibly relieved smile tugs gently at her lips when their eyes meet.

"Hey, handsome," she breathes out in a whisper.

"Hello, my dear," he answers at the same volume.

"Are you alright?" she asks as she wipes away an errant hair that had been clinging to his face.

"Of course. What has led you to believe otherwise?"

"You know, it's just me, just us. You don't have to use that fancy speak with me." She sits back, a worried eyebrow raised. "Anyways, well, for one, you were talking in your sleep. You don't do that unless something less than happy has happened in your dream. Secondly, you're crying, and you were in your sleep," she tells him in a soft, concerned tone.

He blinks and reaches up to find wetness under his eyes. It's not a flowing river or even a creek, just a few tears. Still, he wonders how he didn't notice the wetness of his salty tears when he first woke. Surely, he'd have noticed water clogging up his vision? Perhaps he'd simply passed it off as perspiration? Or sleepiness? Either way, they certainly are tears and not beads of sweat on the top of his cheeks. As he'd been fixated on the tears leaking from his eyes, Darcy had taken the time to lay back down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulders and wrapping an arm around his naked torso.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asks as he lays his arms on her shoulder.

"It was a memory from long ago."

She hums. "You've been having more of those pop up lately."

"It was the last time I saw my father, Yasha, and he knew exactly who I am, the night before my mother and I managed to escape the Red Room."

A minute of silence passes between them as they process what he's just admitted. "Do you think seeing him in New York could possibly have caused you to be having more memories of him all those years ago suddenly resurface?"

"It is a thought I have been thinking often lately, love."

"Steve's been looking for him ever since he got released from the hospital, the idiot. Do you wish you were with him? Looking for your father?"

"Some part of me does wish that I must admit." When she starts to ask why he's not doing just that, he has to think a moment before answering. "If my father, the man I know, is still in there behind all the reconditioning I'm sure they've inflicted upon him since I last saw him and all the memories I'm sure are confusing him, then I don't need to look for him. If the part I knew is still in there, then I believe he'll come to me when he's ready to. Right now, though? I highly doubt he's ready to see me, see us, again. Searching for him, trying to force him to come back, would be futile and a waste of resources and time. In addition, I don't think I'm ready to see him myself."

"Then why let Steve drag Sam along with him on this manhunt if you're so sure it's not worth it?" It's less an accusing inquiry and more an innocent curiosity in her tone.

"I have tried. Even mum has tried, but Steve is also as bullheaded as you and didn't want to listen to me. I just hope that Sam isn't run ragged trying to keep up."

"Then that is his problem. Although, I do agree. Sam shouldn't have to pay for Steve's stubborn ignorance of the truth, the truth that maybe Yasha, or Bucky as he knows him, just isn't ready to see him yet." A handful of minutes passes before she speaks again. "You're sure that you're okay, though? I know I just started here, like literally only a couple days ago, but if you think we need to leave, then we will. I already have emergency packs and duffels all packed and ready." A habit he's noticed that she's picked up from him since knowing him, knowing that they could only have mere seconds to grabs things before they have to leave should the situation turn bad.

"As much as that sounds appealing, no. We can't leave. We're needed here more than we're needed anywhere else. Ever since last year, my mark has gotten slowly but steadily increasingly darker. Things are going to happen here, and I fear I'll be needed soon. Regardless, I promised I'd watch over Draco while he attends school."

"Okay, we'll stay. Besides, it has been a while since I last got to see you scare baby agents and the students here are totally afraid of you, so like kinda samesies. Plus, I get to see Drake more."

"Must you continue calling the poor boy that?"

"Yep. He hasn't told me to stop, so I can totally keep doing it."

"That boy adores you, Darcy." She shrugs.

"Who wouldn't? I'm an awesome godmother, and don't think I'm letting you off the hook with that whole 'things are going to happen here.' You know more than you're letting on, and I want to know."

He chuckles. "I believe we have a few more hours until we must be awake. I for one would like to be asleep during those hours if you don't mind. I will tell you what you want to know in the morning."

"Okay."

And only a few minutes later Darcy has been lost to the world in sleep, but no matter how Severus tries, he can't seem to fall back into the land of Morpheus. Instead, he can't stop thinking about his dream and how vivid it had been. Yes, it had been a memory, but he had also been only around six at the time. However, the more he thinks about his memory, the more he can recall that day with a startling clarity.

The next day as they used up every last drop of fuel in the tank, neither of them cried as each second that passed by took them farther and farther from the missing member of their little family. Silence engulfed them like a heavy, dense fog, infused with a concoction of confusion, sadness, anxiety, and even the tiniest fleck of excitement at the daunting future they're careening towards.

Then Momma broke it into a thousand pieces with her hushed, gentle voice. "Little Wolf, do you remember how I told you that you are special because you had another family, another momma, long ago? Before you came to me?"

"Yes, momma," he said easily. "She was killed and then I came to you and Papa."

"Yes, little one," she said. "Good boy. She gave you a name. Severus. You are Severus Tobias Snape to the world."

The air between them returned to silence as she let her words sink in, let him digest this new information and decide what it meant to him.

"But I will always be Little Wolf, yes?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips as he watched her for an answer hesitantly.

"Yes, you will always be my Little Frost Wolf. That will never change."

"Okay, momma."

And that had been the end of it.

From then on, to all the world but his Mum and Papa, he became known as Severus Tobias Snape. To his parents, though, he remained and always would be (much to his distaste at times) their Little Wolf.

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 **COMMENTS MAKE MY DAY! I PROMISE! THEY ARE MY LIFE JUICE!**


	5. Part 4: Darcy

**OMG? What is this? Another chapter-a long one even-so soon? What is this? Yeah, I know. I'm shocked too, honestly. Well, the way it worked out was that I had already written this and a couple other potential chapters in Darcy's POV only to decide that I wanted to alternate POV, not including the Prologue, and needed to post a Severus POV chapter before I could post this one.**

 **Anyways, here you all go! Thanks for all the Kudos, comments, and just plain awesomeness and happy vibes you're sending my way! You guys are all fantastic people.**

 **This chapter is dedicated to Nakedpears over on AO3 who gave me a prompt for the first half of this chapter!**  
 **Everyone else who gave me a prompt, I promise I will try to add each one, providing that it's possible in my headcanon for this AU.**

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"Hey! You!" The long, dark haired man put down his -JANE'S-box and turned around at her shout to face her. And... okay, he's not like right up in your face hot, but damn...actually kinda hitting like all of her "ooh, attractive" buttons. Sure, his nose was a little big, his hair a little on the lanky, greasy side, but overall, she could totes be okay with it. His eyes were like pools of dark obsidian, and, given the chance, she was pretty sure she could definitely get lost in them. That amused little smirk curling his lips? Um, yeah. Totally something she could see finding both endearing and completely capable of pissing her off depending on the situation. Okay, yeah, the height and ooh, muscles were a bit of a turn on too. Not exactly a visual vitamin, and like...not her traditional hottie, but, um, okay she could already feel a little crush forming somewhere in her soul. "Yes?" Oh, gah! The voice! Yep, she was kinda already fucked. "Can I help you with something?"

The question actually managed to reach her brain and not just stop at her ears as audio saccharine, and then she remembered the righteous anger that had been boiling all up inside her literally a moment ago. "Look, Mr. Jack Booted Thug of a Mysterious, Unknown, but Apparently Acronymed, Agency, you took my iPod, and I want her back! I just downloaded 30 new songs! Why the fuck would you take her? I'm just the intern! And only because no one else applied, at that! What mysterious, groundbreaking shit could you possibly find on Janessa other than the awesomeness of my music?" she demanded, hands on her hips and an eyebrow arched with a fiery tint in her eyes. "I mean, yeah, I kinda get why you guys want Janey's sciencey stuff. It's a complete dick move by you fuckers, but I get it. She's always been the lead bitch in her field, but now that her shit has actually been proved and is relevant to the man who just fell out of the sky and all his problems, you guys want it and need it. Like I said, I actually kinda get it, but it doesn't mean you need to take everything or be asswipes about it! I mean, come on! Half of the stuff you're taking isn't even understandable to anyone but me or Jane! Plus, it's probably not even relevant or has even one word that correlates with whatever you want her research for! You don't need it! Anyways, Janessa. Give her back!"

"I apologize. Janessa? An iPod?" He wasn't fucking with her. He was actually serious and confused, like actually, literally confused.

The righteous eyebrow raise dropped instantly right after the words left his mouth. Disbelief took over, and her arms dropped in front of her. "Are you shitting me here? It's an iPod. Purple with blue earbuds, buddy! You know, Apple mp3 player! It's not that new! Where have you been the last...what? Ten years now? Are you shady government agencies really as bad as the movies?" Her eyebrows rose with an unimpressed incredulity.

From the way his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, she could tell that he was most likely trying pretty hard to hold in a chuckle or something. It was quiet, but he actual facts cleared his throat. "I apologize for my ignorance. I've only recently come back from somewhere that isn't...as up to date technologically. I suppose I missed this new invention."

She threw her hands in the air as an attempt to vent her unbelief. "Dude, you don't need to beat around the bush; you mean 'super-secret mission'. Oh my god, I can't believe it! Every actiony, spy agenty movie I've ever seen was right! Shady government agencies really are just pathetic! How could you, Hollywood? Of all the things to be accurate, you had to choose this! Why? Couldn't you have at least been accurate in how often a normal human needs to pee? Like seriously, no one can hold it in _that_ long!" After her little rant, she turned her head back to the entertained thug dude person.

"If I can find it, how about a cup of coffee while you tell me how it works?" He even has the gall to attempt looking sheepish as he offers. She hadn't noticed before, but he had an accent. A real one. Yep, lady bits happy.

She crosses her arms over her lovely, bountiful chest with a smirk. "I thought you agenty types were into the whole 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, never to be seen again' dealio. You sure you'll be around long enough for coffee? Besides, I don't do coffee."

"I have a feeling I'll be sticking around for a bit, Miss. If you don't do coffee, what do you do?"

"It's Ms., not Miss or Mrs. It doesn't matter if I'm married or single or ready to mingle. I'm fucking amazing either way, and those names only demean that by insinuating that I need to married to be validated. However, if you're willing to accept my feminist ways that won't ever put up with your sexist and all-around demeaning shit and will call you out on it, then I could do a vanilla chai."

"Hey, Wolf, stop hitting on the poor girl and get your ass over here. Coulson wants it all packed and at the compound yesterday!" another seriously muscled Jack-Booted Thug called over. Okay, was it a criterion or something that shady government agencies had that required all their field agents to have bodies that made any non-bodybuilder civi have a complex? Not fair. Oh! Maybe that's the trick! Blind any bystanders with hot people and then disappear while they're still in a dazed, attractive people state! Yep! That's how it worked and why there weren't any flashy men in black thingies!

"An iPod, yes?"

"Yep. Her name's Janessa. Give her back, along with as much of my scientists' research as possible, and then maybe we can talk." She knew that he would most likely be unable to get her back Jane's research, but hey, may as well throw it out there! At least she's thinking of her scientists. She did a little nod before turning on her heel. "Oh, and if you want to, oh, I don't know, steal Jane's coffee maker, because that totally has something to do with uncovering the secrets of the universe in it just like everything else we own apparently, you know where to find us. Besides, it's not like this town is that big. See you around, Wolf," she threw over her shoulder.

"It's Severus," was all she heard before she was inside, prepared to comfort her poor scientists.

Once Thor did his thing and disappeared back into the sky with his Asgardian voodoo bridge thingy, Severus came back. He even did the polite thing and knocked instead of sneaky-sneaking his way into the building like she's pretty sure he could have. Then, once she had finished wrangling Erik into eating and sleeping and had made sure Jane didn't accidentally do anything that could potentially result in self-harm to her person or be world-ending worthy, she agreed to going with the Thug to the dinner, which was surprisingly not too destroyed after the giant metal robot of doom and Asgard rained hellfire on the town in its search for Thor.

As it turned out, he really didn't know more than pretty much nothing about what her beloved iPod was because when he gave it to her, he'd had to double check with another, more informed Agent that it was even an iPod in the first place, let alone hers, before plucking up the guts to come meet her again. Once she made sure it was hers, because that was something only she would be able to determine, and not another person's wickedly awesome device, she felt honor bound as a faithful Apple user to explain how Janessa worked to the poor, confused Severus across the table from her. He didn't have any of Jane or Erik's research for her, but she kinda expected that anyway. So, she started going about telling him all about her beautiful Janessa.

From that, she figured out he didn't know a whole lot about pop culture at all. Then it sorta became a thing for him to come over a couple times a week for a few hours so she could explain to him the wonders of current technology and the net and pop culture that he'd missed.

"Darcy? Are you alright?" her now husband's voice reaches through the past and draws her back into the present. She blinks. She's walking down a hallway with Sev. They've just finished breakfast in their rooms.

"Huh? Oh, yes. I was just thinking of the first time we met," she says. "Honestly, I'm still surprised you came back after my rant. Most people hightail it out of there when I do that."

He chuckles. "I almost did, to be honest. I nearly didn't go back after Thor disappeared. However, your bluntness was refreshing to meet after living with those that I did, and I found myself drawn to you."

"Well, I am glad you came back. Who knows how life would've gone if you didn't come back." A shiver runs down her back at that thought. "But you did, and I'm so happy that you did. I love you, Sev." It may be sappy, but fuck it. In the world they live in and with the people they associate with, even call friends, one never knows when they'll lose someone they love. Best to tell their loved one as many times as they can, whenever they can. Darcy had realized that quite quickly when she watched her then boyfriend battle aliens during the Battle of New York all those years ago, worried that she'd never be able to tell him those three little but powerful and amazing words again.

"Я люблю тебя тоже, моя света. (I love you too, my light.)" She smiles at him. She always loves when he speaks to her in Russian. After having been married to him for 3 years now and having known him a little before that, she's been able to pick up enough Russian to be able to understand most of what he says, but it's a crapshot if she can actually pronounce the language correctly herself. "And may I ask why you were thinking of our first meeting?"

"I've gotten a few people adding us how we meet you know. I'm new here and you've got a lovely little reputation for being the scariest teacher, so of course, everyone wants to know how we met and what about your charming personality got me to even consider saying yes to dating you, let alone marry you. Of course, I've been telling them the generic 'we met at a past job' story, but it's gotten me thinking about what actually happened. That's all. When do you have class again?"

"Ah. I see. I only have one more for the day in about 2 hours. Then there's dinner. Until then, I am free. Any homework I've assigned isn't due for at least a week, so I don't need to grade anything, if I remember correctly, even if the extra time won't make their work anymore dismal."

"Coolsies! That's plenty of time to start that tour you promised me!" Then she smacks him lightly on the chest. "Dude, they're kids. Of course, most of their stuff gonna be shit. That's why they're in school in the first place. We're supposed to teach them how to not have their stuff be shit."

"Indeed, I did promise to show you the best parts of the grounds since you now know your way around the castle. Is there any place in particular that you'd like to see first?" Even though she's never been to the castle before now, he's told her about the place enough times that there are spots that she'd say she wants to visit if she ever actually went to the castle. She rolls her eyes at his ignoring of what she said about being a teacher because she knows that he knows she's right and just doesn't want to submit it and scrunches her nose in consideration of his question. After a minute of thinking, she huffs.

"Oh, what the hell, I can't pick just one place, so you decide. Besides, I'm going to see it all anyway. I'm not gonna let you skimp on the tour."

"I believe we'll leave the forest for last as it is not a place you should need to visit often, if ever. I suppose the House dorms might be the best place to start, as they are where the students live, and you are their teacher."

"Great! Then let's mush!" She grabs his hand and begins to dramatically march forwards, ignoring her husband as he chuckles and knowing full well that she's got no idea whatsoever where she's heading.

"Darcy, my dear, left," he urges from her side, and she can totally hear the amusement in his tone. She makes the appropriate turn and then slows down to a normal, leisurely pace, pleased that she's at least entertaining herself despite probably looking like a wacko as she pulls him along in a place where she doesn't know her way around.

Around an hour and a half into the tour, Darcy and Severus find a trio of students, and Darcy is pretty sure one of them was in her first class, Ms. Granger if she remembers right.

"Oh, come off it, Mione, he's brilliant. Sure, even I'll admit what he did to that poor bug was mean, but at least he didn't do it to a student! Right, Harry?" the ginger-haired student asks their black-haired buddy.

"I don't know, Ron. I mean, did you notice what seeing all that did to Neville? He didn't look too good." the student with shaggy black hair and a cracking, lower voice, Harry, answers.

"Fine, but what he did to Malfoy was still brilliant. Finally, someone stood up to that blondey and saw him for the ferret he is!" the redhead, Ron, if Darcy's over-heard right, says.

"I dislike Malfoy just as much as you, Ronald, but don't you think turning the boy into a ferret and throwing him around was a bit much, especially from a professor?" Hermione Granger, the one student out of the three that she recognizes, says. From what Darcy can tell, someone did something to Draco and that just won't fly with her.

Darcy darts a look in Severus' direction, smoldering fire in her eyes, before marching over to the students. Her husband trails behind in the shadow.

"Excuse me...Ms. Granger was it, yes?"

"Oh, hello, Ms. Lewis!" the bushy haired Gryffindor greets with a cheerful enthusiasm. "That's absolutely correct."

Then she turns to face the other two more directly. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met. I'm Darcy Lewis, the new Muggle Studies professor, and wife to the apparent resident scary teacher."

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," the black haired one says after a moment's hesitation, disbelief briefly flashing in his green eyes behind his coke-bottle glasses. He even holds out a hand, which she accepts and gives a firm shake.

Then the redhead does the same, awe in his eyes. "I'm Ron Weasley."

"Oh, good. Now, I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear something about Professor Moody and Mr. Malfoy. Would you mind filling in for me?" Darcy asks, the softness of her tone hiding the rage simmering beneath the surface.

"Oh, yeah. Um, a couple days ago Malfoy was bein' a prat like usual, but Moody wouldn't let it happen, you see. He was bloody brilliant-" Weasley starts.

"He transfigured Malfoy into a white ferret! Then he had Malfoy bounce around and stuff," Potter fills in. What the fuck? Turning students into animals and making them bounce around and "stuff?" Severus has never done that to any of his students no matter how much he dislikes them. Darcy is sure that no matter how much he nags her about how awful and idiotic his students are, he'd never be that cruel to a poor kid. And just what in the ever-loving _fuck_ did Draco do or say that gave this Moody the urge to turn _her_ godson into a fucking white ferret? Once she's confronted Moody, she and that dragon are going to be having some _words_.

"Only for a few moments, mind you. Professor McGonagall put a stop to it before any real harm could be done!" Granger finishes hastily, apparently already noticing that Darcy is very displeased by what she's just learned.

The static in the air raises just a tad with the next words Darcy grounds out through a gritted smile as she thinks of ways to tear into Moody for transfiguring and potentially harming her godson. They must be able to feel the air has changed because they suddenly pale just the tiniest and get uncomfortable expressions on their faces. "And it was Moody, yes? As in Professor Moody?" she needs to make sure before she accidentally aims her rage at an innocent person.

A twitch of a smirk flicks across her lips at the visible gulp that Weasley takes before nodding slowly, confusion tinted with fear in his eyes. "Yeah."

At this admission, a bright smile lights up Darcy's face, unsettling the trio of Gryffindors, which she can tell from the badges on their uniforms, even more at the complete turnaround of her outwards emotions despite the air still crackling with electricity and an air of danger. "Well then, thank you all for filling me in on some of the very interesting events that I've missed going on in this school. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe Moody and I have some things to discuss. I'll see you around. Bye now," she chirps before spinning on her heel and marching away, Severus right on her heel and ready to aid her in her _discussion_ with Moody. Once they have the opportunity, they duck into an alcove to listen to what the students have to say now that she's not right there. Sure, it could technically be considered rude, but she just wants to know what they'll say after she's left their direct line of sight. She's pretty sure they'll say something about her or Moody, but if they really do just change subjects, then they'll stop and leave the kids to their conversation.

"Blimey, mate, is it just me or did she give you the shivers?" Weasley asks the other two.

"I dunno how she did it. From what I've seen and heard from others, she's one of the nicest professors, if not the nicest, they've ever had. She also doesn't stand for bullies," Potter replies.

"It's true! She even gave us a lecture about bullies first thing, even before introducing herself. I think she's rather brilliant myself," Granger chirps. At hearing this, the brunette in mention sends Severus a smug beaming smile to which he simply rolls his eyes and smirks.

"Still, am I the only one who's kind of scared for Professor Moody?" Weasley asks.

"No, I am too, mate. Not quite sure why, though. She may be that greasy bat's wife, but she's nowhere near as scary or mean as he is if you ask me," Potter adds. "Honestly, I'm kinda curious as to how in the world they met in the first place. She's so nice and bloody gorgeous if you ask me, and he's so...not."

"Too right, Harry," Weasley agrees.

"Wonder what she's gonna do to Professor Moody, though. She didn't seem too happy about hearing him do that to Malfoy," Potter muses.

"Come on, Harry, it can't be that bad. After all, Moody's an ex-Auror, one of the best too apparently," Granger says. "Whatever she does can't be too bad, right?"

Soon their voices are too far away to be heard, so Darcy and Severus decide that it's probably safe to come out now. Then Darcy is charging down the halls with a righteous, fiery, passionate anger, intent on finding out the whole truth about what happened straight from Moody's mouth. No one humiliates or hurts a Lewis and gets away with it. Draco, being her godson, is definitely an honorary Lewis, and as far as she could understand from what little she just heard, Moody did both. Now he's gonna get the hellfire that's coming to him.

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 **Let me know what you think! Have a good...however long it is until I update again, everybody! Internet macaroons (because I personally like them better than cookies) to you all!**


	6. Part 5: Severus

_I'm too sexy for my shirt  
Too sexy for my shirt  
So sexy it hurts—_

The ringtone blares out of her mobile, startling nearly everyone once more with the strange, vulgar lyrics being sung, Severus and Darcy being the only exceptions. Darcy digs around her bag before finally coming up with the device in her hand. Severus watches through the corner of his vision as she answers the incoming phone call.

"Liaison of earth's mightiest and Lady Love of the Wolf, Darcy Lewis, at your service! How's it hangin', bro?" she states into the mobile in greeting with a slight smile. However, whatever the person on the other side of the line says causes her to sigh and smack her forehead, sighing "never again, Tony." Then a moment passes and a feral, mischievous glint paints her face. "Why hello, sexy muscles. How can I help you?" she purrs with faux sensuality. Rogers must be on the other side of the line. She really only ever does that to the poor Super Soldier because she loves how bright the man's face becomes when she playfully leers at him. Despite not actually being as "innocent and naive" in the ways of intercourse as Tony often teases, the poor man always blush at having a very happily married young lady be so open about teasing him the way she does. Natasha is the only other person that she'll say something like that to, but Severus knows her ringtone is _One Woman Army_ by Porcelain Black _._ If his wife weren't Darcy and their relationship wasn't as stable as he knows for a fact it is, perhaps he'd feel that he should be worried that his wife likes to tease Rogers in such a way, but the fact is that Darcy _is_ his wife and he's confident and comfortable enough in the solidity of their marriage that he can only find humor in such situations. "Actually, one second." She puts her hand over the microphone and leans over towards him. "Sev, how old are Dumbly and Minerva?"

"A little over one-hundred and perhaps around seventy," he answers quickly.

"Albus Dumbledore, like maybe a few years older than you, totally swings your way, and kinda attractive in a creepy, not really Magneto doppelganger kinda way...yeah never mind. Minerva McGonagall, though. She's only a few years younger than you. I rather like her. She's spunky and kinda like an older version of Maria. You wouldn't even be stealing the cradle with her! So, what do you say, oh captain, my captain? Not-Magneto or Minerva?" The two people mentioned splutter confusedly at hearing themselves described as such.

An upwards curl pulls at Severus' lips at hearing her teasingly try to set Rogers up on a date. Ever since she'd heard about his mother's attempts to set poor Steven up, she'd decided to join in. However, while his mother's options had actually been worthy of consideration and were more serious, Darcy had taken to jokingly pointing out single elder folk as possible options whenever possible.

She sighs and looks upwards, a hint of faux disappointment in her eyes. "Aw, and here I was thinking I'd finally found someone...so what can I _actually_ help you with, Steve?"

From there, the conversation carries on and everyone else returns to whatever they were doing before the start of the call as well. He returns to his meal, keeping an ear out in case his assistance is requested.

"It's just Janey? Honestly, you had to call me for that? What about all the other assistants? They've _got_ to be good at something!" He smirks. Darcy hasn't worked with Jane or for the Labs (he's told the capitalization is completely necessary) in over a month, but she still gets questions and concerns from them. Despite the fact that at least two assistants have been hired to take over her position, and he's sure many more will be hired in time as well, Darcy is still considered the expert to go to with things that aren't actually SCIENCE! (again, the capitalization is apparently necessary) but still in the lab. "That's it? Yes? Okay. Good. I'll get right on that after this. I'll talk to you later then, Steven! Oh, and make sure Brucie and Tony get something to eat, too! Those green, icky power shake thingies Tony eats do not count! Do you hear me? Do _not_ count. That lab better be empty of any scientist when I get to the Tower! Bye, send my love to the kids!" They're not actually kids, but Darcy is always joking that they act like it enough that the description is most assuredly accurate.

Once the call has ended, Darcy addresses Jarvis. "Jarvis, please enact Protocol: Star Dazed until a minimum of 8 hours of sleep, 2 nutritional meals have been consumed, and 1 hour of socializing has been had by all members of the protocol, all within the 24-hour period of the beginning of the Protocol" she tells the A.I. in a saccharine voice. "Code: 7819 for all labs under the Avengers' jurisdiction, leaving any and all labs under the control of Pepper Potts to be dealt with according to her."

"Protocol: Star Dazed has been enacted, Ms. Lewis, and labs are currently being emptied," the disembodied voice of Jarvis replies.

"Thanks, J-man!" Darcy chirps.

"Everything alright over there? The world won't implode or explode?" he teases.

"So far so good, buddy!" She grins. "I mean, the world might _implode_ but it won't _explode_. Jane's been working on that portal thingy, so that might cause the world to implode. Tony's working on building his Iron Legion. Bruce is...doing whatever Bruce does...actually, I think he might be working on trying to find Loki's scepter. Steve's doing his search thing for the man who _clearly_ doesn't want to be found with Sam tagging along. Nat's probably keeping the world from throwing you and her in jail, you know crowd control after the huge data dump you guys did. Actually, never mind that. She should probably be here soon since she's picking me up so we can head over to South Korea to see if I can convince Dr. Helen Cho, leading scientist in the world on the new field of cellular regeneration, to work with us. Thor is probably helping Bruce and ogling Jane. Clint's still MIA. So... Nope. Most likely no exploding or imploding gonna happen on their end. As for over here, well we'll see about that. Besides, I'm not even there as much as I used to since I started my new position, and I'm no longer Ruler of All Things SCIENCE!. Oh, look, mail! Right on time!"

Indeed, right as she says it, a legion of owls carrying the daily mail comes soaring into the Hall.

Seeing an owl fly over towards Professor Moody with a bright red envelope in its grasp, a student points out the obvious. "Look! Moody's got a Howler!"

Everyone but Severus and Darcy watch with heavy apprehension as the red envelope is dropped off in front of Moody. By now everyone in the school has been informed of the Ferret incident and aren't entirely all that surprised that a Howler has finally arrived. When the envelope is opened hesitantly, Severus can tell that nearly everyone expects the voice that comes out to be the booming, intimidating, low timbre of Lucius Malfoy. However, they're all very taken aback by the smooth, alto, Russian tone of a female pouring from the letter in a purred yet hissed volume, loud enough to fill the Hall.

"Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody, you do not know me, not yet, but you should be scared, paralyzed vith fear, because you hurt one of the very few people in zis life zat I love. I have brought men much more powerful zan you vith your little stick and lights to zeir knees vith my bare hands. I can bring a person to vithin the brink of death, begging and hoping for mercy death, only to _pull_ zem back to life. I know you, and I know how bring you down. After all, you've seen and experienced zis life, I doubt you care much for your own life now, but I can make you fear for ze lives and safety of your loved ones, ones you trust, and ones you. Vant. Safe. You hurt Draco Malfoy or anyone else ze vay you did him, even your little 'constant vigilance' vill not enough to save you from me and my husband." There's a rustling of something that sounds like clothing and maybe paper before the mysterious lady is asking someone if there's anything else.

A moment later, another voice speaks. A low, smooth male voice with a Russian accent as strong as the other speaker's that sounds an awful lot like the voice of Lucius Malfoy comes through the letter. "And, little vizard, know no matter vhere you go, ve vill find you."

Then for some strange reason, the letter turns, as if changing its stare to Severus. "Oh, and Severus, dear, have you heard? Lost Soldier on the march. He makes his vay across America, taking down base after base, leaving razed ruins in his vake and tearing through facility's data for anything that could relate to Vidow and her Volf. I think he in Europe by the end of the year. Perhaps Yasha not as far gone as Natalia thought."

Then the red paper is up in bright flames.

At first, no one reacts, unsure how to honestly. Then Darcy is reaching over to him and accepting the twenty he offers. She pockets the bill in her bag under the table with ease and practiced secrecy. They'd made a bet on whether or not the letter would be from just Yelena or Niko or both of them. She'd bet both while he'd wagered that only one would suffice. Then, just like that, she goes back to happily munching on her food, purposefully ignoring the thick tension in the air. When no one does the same after a few moments have passed, she stops and looks around with unveiled curiosity bleeding through her amused expression.

"What?" she asks the room at large.

When no one answers her, she arches an eyebrow. "I believe that they're unsure how to react to the Howler Moody just received," Severus explains in a whisper near her ear, highly amused. "Darcy, did you truly need to tell them? I do not like what Moody did to Draco any more than you do, but don't you think telling both of them was a bit much? Surely Niko would have sufficed? He may be her husband, but he is less...terrifying." And it's true. He completed the Wolf Spider Program, but she completed the Black Widow Program and even managed to beat a few of his mother's records.

"Ooh, well if that's all," she breathes. Then she dramatically rolls her eyes and shrugs nonchalantly. She glances over and meets Moody's gaze, the normally stoic, unshakable wizard looking thoroughly threatened. "What? You didn't think I'd carry through with my threat, did you? Well, for future references, 98.5% of the time I do, that 1.5% of the time being when actual murder is concerned. I told you that you'd be sorry you ever messed with my family. Besides, that was just the first bit."

Then a throaty chuckling fills the air from behind him. "Who pissed them off? I thought everyone knew upsetting the deadly duo was a bad idea. They're just as bad as me, if not more since there's two of them. What did he do to warrant that complete of a death threat?" the newcomer asks, teasing humor from their words.

In reply, Darcy smiles and turns to the person who spoke. He glances over as well to find his mother leaning against the doorframe of the adjacent room, arms crossed over her chest and a smirk curling her lips. She has a look of nonchalance in her eyes that is teasing and amused. "Hello, little ones," she greets. Then she lifts off the doorframe to saunter over to stand between them, resting her hands on the backs of their chairs. "So, this is Hogwarts? It's...certainly big if this is anything to go by...and old." He watches her take a quick sweep of the occupants, who, while having gone back to chatting and eating, have hushed considerably at the sight of his mother. Even in a simple outfit of jeans, a navy-blue shirt, red leather jacket, and a pair of flats, she still gives off a commanding presence that draws attention. "And these are the rug rats you keep complaining about, Sev. Seriously? They look more interesting than the baby-agents we used to terrify, just younger."

"Yep, pretty much sums it up! Big, old, but with legit magic. The staircases are kinda fun, though, since they move around randomly. The kids are cooler too since they actually know what fun is and aren't completely terrified of me simply based on the principle that I'm married to this guy and besties with you and Clint. Anyway, why are you here and how the hell did you find this place? You never did tell how you even knew how to get here. Doesn't this place have some shit like that to keep people like u-you out?" Darcy cuts in. No one draws attention to her near slip up of saying "us" instead of "you." No one knows that she's a muggle, and the couple would prefer that to remain true for now. Too many of the more elite families would be less than welcoming to learn of her non-magical heritage and may object to her teaching there, especially since she has yet to make it a whole year as a teacher and show her expertise in the subject. She casts an accusatory look towards him, and he remembers that he's never exactly explained her ability to be here to her.

"When he took the job here, Severus gave Clint, Coulson, and I the exact coordinates of this place," Mum informs them.

"The wards here only deter Muggles if they don't know where to look and are just wandering," Severus explains. Then, in a hushed tone so that only the three of them can hear, he furthers his explanation. "However, if they know exactly where to look and have the specific intent to come here, the wards do not expel them. In your case, your use of a portkey, one that had been warded to make sure it only worked if you were the one to touch it, was enough intent that the wards allowed you entrance."

"Oh, okay, cool. I guess that makes sense," Darcy says.

"Severus, my boy, you brought a muggle into Hogwarts?" the heavily intrigued voice of Albus asks. "Surely, you understand the repercussions of such an act. Her mind will certainly have to be _obliviate'_ d before she leaves."

"Wipe my mind, _wizard_ , and you _will_ feel repercussions. In addition, Severus is not 'your boy,' so I will ask that you cease calling him that," his mother damn near growls, allowing some heat to seep into her words when addressing the Headmaster. "Now, Darcy, are you nearly ready?"

"Yep, just let me finish up my elixir of the gods!" his wife chirps before gulping down a healthy swig.

Mum turns to him with an inquisitive brow. "Will you be joining us or are you too busy? You've told me before about the heavier obligations of being a Head of a House."

"Actually, I believe they can survive without me until Monday. I have no detentions to oversee this weekend. I have my lesson plans memorized after so many years and any grading can be done in our flat at the Tower," he replies.

Darcy, now finished inhaling her chai, turns to stare at him with wide eyes. Just as he is about to ask her what the expression is conveying, she blinks and grasps his mother's arm. "Dibs!" she announces suddenly.

At her claim, both mother and son share a look before chuckling low in their throats in amusement. He rarely ever laughed within Hogwarts before his wife came to teach here, so he does not doubt that this new expression of joy is highly surprising to the student and staff population of Hogwarts. "And what, may I ask, are you calling dibs on, love?" he asks.

"Co-pilot." She says it like it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course, you are co-pilot, птичка _(little bird)_ ," Mum answers. "Severus has too much work to do to be of any help as a co-pilot, and you need to practice more if you want to become a certified pilot by the end of the year."

"Work? What do you mean?" He truly does not know what she means. She pulls out a silver USB drive and hands it to him, which he quickly pockets. "Mum," he whispers only loud enough for her to hear due to her enhanced hearing before returning to a louder volume. "What do you mean? What is this?" "This" referring to the piece of technology he just received.

She reaches out and grabs a plate, piling it high with food. She eats it as she nibbles on the food from her plate as she explains. "Just because you took down the helicarriers for Project Insight in May doesn't mean you stopped it or hydra. They're still active. If anything, they're even more active now that they've been outed and don't have to hide in the shadows like the loathsome cockroaches they are," Darcy starts.

"This has the files on every known base, including the ones we think Яша (Yasha) has hit," Mum adds. "Jarvis, Stark, and I have already combed through them all, but we figured why not see if you could find anything. It also has files on every field agent you have ever partnered with on an assignment. Again, Jarvis, Stark, and I have already gone through them, but we thought that you might be able to pick up something that may not be on file as you've had personal experience working with them. They're right, you know. He's taken down 5 bases already." Severus doesn't have to guess who she's referring to when she says "he." "This is what was left from his data sweep. He left nearly everything, but from what Jarvis and I can tell, he scanned any file that mentioned him or us. Perhaps my husband, my Yasha, is still in there somewhere. In addition, I have separated and highlighted anyone who I believe may have had interactions with the Winter Soldier."

Then in a low voice only he and Darcy can just barely make out, she adds, "I know we both agreed that it would be useless to find him and try to persuade him to come to the Tower with us, I really do believe that he's definitely not ready for that. However, I do have a small hope that if you and I could see if we can spot some tiny hint of where he is or where he might strike next, we could help him a bit, even if all we do is give him the location of one of our safehouses. I've already found something, but I was hoping maybe you could find something more, especially with that magic you've got."

His mother has always been absolutely thorough when searching through things and very rarely misses anything at all, so he doubts he'll be able to find anything that she could have possibly missed in her very fine-toothed comb. However, he _is_ a fresh set of eyes, of perspective, on the file and just maybe, against the nearly impossible odds he'll find something new.

"Ah, I shall work on it during the flight then," he tells her. She nods her thanks.

"Yay! I'm sure Helen will appreciate your presence!" Darcy teases.

"I truly do not understand why, though," he says. "Surely she knows I'm married."

"Simple. Despite the fact that I hate overgeneralization and stereotyping, I have to say you do fulfill that whole 'tall, dark, dangerous, _and_ mysterious' fantasy pretty much every girl has got in a way that none of the other Avengers do. Plus, you've got an accent," Darcy replies easily as she nibbles on some fruit.

"Again, I'm married," he has to say.

"Again, that just adds a level of unobtainable attractiveness. They probably are even more curious now since you're married. Their logic is probably something along the lines 'there must be something about him that she liked.' Plus, _you_ are off limits now, which only adds to the whole appeal," his mother points out.

"But I do not want to be appealing or attractive to them," he hisses under his, only loud enough for Darcy and his mum to hear.

They laugh. "Well, tough luck, honey. Unfortunately for you, it pretty much came with becoming a public figure," Darcy laughs, "or, at least, being married to one."

"I believe you can check the boxes in both accounts, Severus," his mother adds as she finishes up the food on her plate. "Alright, wheels up in ten."

"Aye-aye, Nat! Let's get this show on the road!" Darcy chirps brightly then hops up to go grab her stuff. "Co-pilot gets to choose tunes!"

Both mother and son chuckle. Of course, co-pilot gets to choose tunes. That fact has been undisputed since the Incident of Bermuda, which ended with the Blonde Three—Thor, Steve, and Clint—stripped to the waist and covered in mud, Tony making a snow cone machine out of coconuts and sand, and Bruce, Severus, and his mother had to repair the crashed Quinjet with spit, extra hair ties, and duck-tape.

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 **PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. I know that there are grammatical mistakes during the Howler, but I hope that did not impede your ability to read, understand and enjoy this. Happy New Years!**


	7. Part 6: Darcy

**Hi! I'm not dead!**

 **I'm alive, and I am SUPER sorry about the unintended, unplanned, accidental hiatus! I swear, I really did have this chapter written for you all a couple months ago, but I never got around to posting it. I'm an old-fashioned girl who actually writes her story with paper and whatever pen or pencil I've got and THEN decides to transfer it all over to my laptop when I've finished the chapter.**

 **ANYWAY, I know you're not here to read my little rambles, so on with the story! I hope you all enjoy it. This chapter is actually the longest chapter I've ever written for ANY of my stories, so I hope it almost, maybe sorta makes up for the longass wait!**

 **Please enjoy and let me know what you think!**

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When they finally land safely at the Tower, Darcy is satisfyingly exhausted from successfully persuading Helen Cho to join the Avengers' medical and SCIENCE! payroll. The other woman had put up a bit of an objection but was eventually tempted over to the dark side. Okay, yes, Darcy had promised cookies—not Darcy-made cookies, mind you, because Darcy can't cook or bake for shit, but she does know a guy who's pretty handy at that type of thing—but that was totally not cheating. On the ride to the Tower, Darcy had opted out of being co-pilot in favor of laying down next to her husband as he did his thing on his tablet, her head in his lap. Her hair, which had been immaculately done up earlier when they had left Hogwarts, is now splayed freely around her head. Her makeup, while still quite fine, in all honesty, feels sticky and smudged in a couple places. She's shed her clean, prim suit-jacket and balled it up to use it as a pillow in her husband's lap. She is also two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep in her current position of comfiness. Above her, Severus absently runs his fingers through her hair gently while he works on his tablet.

"Darcy, love, we're here," Severus tells her, softly coaxing her to remain in the world of the conscious. She groans in reply. She is comfy where she is and really doesn't wanna get up. "The others are inside. There's food as well, which I know you need."

"I hate traveling," she grumbles just as Nat walks past them and off the quinjet.

"I do not believe you would agree with that statement if you were full of food and had a good long sleep," he tells her as they slowly get up. It's true. Normally, she loves traveling and seeing the different places. "I believe you are simply suffering from too much international travel too quickly. After all, I don't believe we've ever literally flown across the world so quickly before."

"Remind me to _never_ do that again. Scotland—or wherever Hogwarts is—and then South Korea and _then_ the Tower, all in the span of fewer than forty-eight hours with naps but no substantial eight-hour minimum naps, was a horribly fucking _terrible_ idea," Darcy groans.

"I will be required to return to the castle tomorrow as I have a class to teach, but you may wait until Tuesday to return if you wish," he informs her.

"I might come with you depending on where I'm needed and if I'm awake," she mumbles into his lap. "I'm like 89.76% sure I might still have a few things to get done over at the castle. Plus, I still gotta give your godson a piece of my mind and figure out what else I'm gonna do to Moody."  
"Come on, love, let's get some food and then we may disappear into our room to sleep."

He then manages to cajole Darcy off the quinjet, and they make their way into the common area of the Tower, which is on the same level as the landing pad, thank the goddess. While their personal apartment, which is technically a whole floor because Tony won't let them take anything less (that softy), has a kitchen, it is up to them to keep it stocked and is thus usually barely full due to their demanding schedules. The common area's kitchen is always full, and the team is most likely having some meal there right now anyway. It's around dinner time at Hogwarts, so it's around lunch here in New York City.

They take their time moseying towards the kitchen. Despite the sun being all bright and shiny like, Darcy feels like it's one o'clock in the morning and is so fucking ready for bed. She leans against her husband for support, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders in return. "Goddamn, never again!" she mumbles into his shoulder.

His chest rumbles with tired amusement. "I'm actually quite surprised you haven't already dropped yet, love," he comments.

"Me too. Really."

"You don't need to come with me tomorrow, you know."

She shakes her head against his shoulder.

"Unless I'm actually legitimately needed here, I've got some shit to do over at the school, and I've got my computer, so I should be able to deal with the modern world from the depths of the old world, AKA the world of magic."

"Then let's go eat and then sleep before tomorrow comes," he suggests.

"I'd marry you just for that if we weren't already married," she breathes.

"Well, at least I can still charm you after everything."

"Sh, hush up there. You're talking like we're old and dying. We are neither, and even if we were, we'd be fucking phenomenal old folk, racing our wheelchairs across the lawn and scaring the shit out of kids with our stories," she slurs into his side.

"I know."

As they near the kitchen, they begin to hear voices coming from the room. Listening, she easily recognizes all of them. Another couple steps and then she sees everyone in the kitchen. However, the moment she sees the back of one person, in particular, all else falls into the background. Darcy is the proud owner of a photo collection that she likes to call her Booty Collection, which has a photo of every single Avengers and Co's ™ ass. In fact, she can proudly state that she can identify any Avenger or associated buddy by their fine ass alone, and, despite the haze of exhaustion, she damn well _knows_ that rear!

"Clint," she breathes.

At hearing his name, the archer Avengers turns around, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. "Hey, Darce," he greets, his voice hushed as though if he spoke any louder, he'd ruin the moment but at the same conveying more emotion than words could ever hope to carry.

As soon as her name is out of his mouth, Darcy has shot out of her husband's supporting grip and is running full on towards the blond, her previous lack of energy now gone and filled with desperate dredges of adrenaline. Behind her, Severus follows at a slower, far more relaxed pace. Instead of the rib-crushing bearhug that Darcy is sure the birdbrained Avenger is expecting, Clint is met with a well-formed, precisely aimed, strong left-hook to the face, causing his face to move violently with the force of it.

"Ow! The fuck, Darcy? What was that for?" Clint whines as he cradles his now bruising face.

"CLINTON FRANCIS BARTON, you complete and utter asshole! What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" Darcy shrieks, a hand coming out to poke him in the chest with a finger to punctuate each word. She may be exhausted as shit but fuck it if the cocktail of relief at seeing one of her best friends alive after so long of wondering if he'd gotten his sorry ass _killed_ and the worry about his _forever_ long disappearance doesn't give her a rush of adrenaline. "FOUR MONTHS! Shit went to the deep levels of _hell_ in a handbasket four months ago, and you weren't there. _You weren't there._ What the _fuck_ is wrong with you? Do you know how goddamned worried we all were? You are such a motherfucking, daddycocksucking, shit for brains, _asshole_." Then she's clobbering him in a hug, smashing her face into his chest. After a moment, he's holding her just as desperately.

"Hey, Darce, it's alright. I'm here now, aren't I?" the sharpshooter murmurs just barely loud enough for her to hear into her hair, and neither of them wonders who he's trying to reassure more because they both know that they both needed to hear it just as much as the other.

"We thought you were dead! Or worse: one of them. I don't care who the _fuck_ you are, you can't just disappear on me for four months. That doesn't fly with me. We can't do that anymore. We're a team now, all of us," she scolds near incoherently into his chest. She sniffs and lets out a shaky breath, just barely able to see through relieved tears.

After another minute has passed between them, Darcy pulls back, a soft smile on her lips, and quickly brushes away the few tears that are still trickling down her cheeks. Clint flashes her a similar smile before turning to Severus, an overly dramatically wide but still genuine grin lighting up his face. The shorter man opens up his arms wide. "Speaking of teammates, Sev, my man! How are you holding up?" Clint asks, voice cracking and so full of sincere emotion that is rarely shown.

"I should be asking you the same thing. You have been M.I.A. for months, Barton," Severus answers in the same tone.

"Ack, you know me." Her Wolf sends the Hawk an unimpressed quirk of a smile.

"Exactly my point. That's why I asked."

The other man huffs and crosses his arms back over his chest. "I'm fine, really."

Then they're embracing in a tight hug.

"We were worried there, pigeon," Severus teases.

"Eh, I try, chihuahua," Clint reassures him with a shrug.

"Okay, so, food after feels. Everyone good with that?" Tony asks, his voice trying to sound casual and laid back but failing a bit. She looks around to see everyone else nodding along. They may be superheroes and other such extraordinary people, but it's like a law that no superhero or their people have a great life. They may be superheroes and other such extraordinary people, but, fuck it, they're just people with no idea how to deal with _feelings_.

After a less angsty greeting from everyone else, they all pile in to eat.

"So, I got Helen to come play in Candyland with the rest of our SCIENCE! crazies. _Don't_ scare her off. Janey, no stealing her equipment. Tony, no _changing_ her stuff for unrequested, not-Helen-approved 'improvements.' Brucey, honey, our easy SCIENCE! toddler, just play nice, please. The rest of you lot, be nice. No scaring her off either!" She makes eye contact with each of them as she speaks, her bloodshot eyes staring right into theirs with a conviction she's surprised she has after so long with so little sleep.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am," is chorused around her, some teasing while others are definitely 974.2% serious.

After their bellies are full, the Snape-Lewis pair moseys to their floor and then to their bed for a much-needed sleep.

* * *

The next day, Darcy rolls out of bed, grateful for such a long amount of sleep all at once but cursing its end. Beside her, the mattress is still warm but empty. Severus must have gotten up only a few moments before. Checking her phone for the time, she learns that it's breakfast time across the pond, and, right on Brit's time, her tummy is demanding food, regardless of the time in New York City. _Oh, for fuck's sake, this whole living in at least two completely different time zones in one week is gonna suck balls!_ Honestly, she might as well just pick one and base everything off of that one. Probably Tower time.

She trudges into the kitchen of their apartment-floor and quickly smashes together a large cup of chai, which she just as quickly consumes. Then she makes another one, as is her morning custom, and even though it is _early ass o'clock_ , it is still definitely morning somewhere in the world, _fucking_ _fight her_. This kitchen may rarely be stocked with anything else, but it is always stocked with the makings of Darcy's chai and Severus' coffee. One large cup of chai for the caffeine and a second one for the heavenly flavor, both before facing the world, a happy Darcy makes, and a happy Darcy generally makes a happy everyone else.

By the time she's finished drinking that second heavenly cup, Severus comes out for his morning coffee, the heathen, all fresh and showered. She puts her mug in the dishwasher and heads back to their bedroom, giving him a kiss on the cheek on the way. Sure, it's _way_ more fun showering together, but it also makes it way longer, so they really only take one together when they know they have the time. Otherwise, on days like today where they actually have shit to do, they take their showers separately. Thus, after grabbing her clothes, she hops into the shower, reveling in the warm spray washing away the grimy feel of traveling.

About thirty minutes later sees the couple gathering anything they may need that isn't already at Hogwarts. Then they're going up to the common floor, which is where the fireplace with a connected Flewing Thingy is. When they're on the floor with the common area, they find it empty, which, given the early time here in New Year, makes total sense. Thus, they simply grab a bit of the powdery Flewing Stuff and head into the fireplace. They're able to fit easily because Tony had remade it so that it was large enough to fit at least one Hulk comfortably (should the occasion arise) when Severus had connected it to the Flewing Network Thingy. Severus had also done a weird wibbly wobbly bigger on the inside spell just to be safe!

"Snape-Lewis Residence, Hogwarts!" he shouts and throws the powder stuff on the ground.

* * *

A knock on her new office door as a Professor of Pigpimples has Darcy rising from her desk and walking over to the door. She opens it to find the lanky, nervous form of Neville Longbottom standing there. "Hello, I'm glad you got my message! Come on in," she greets with a bright smile and ushers the student inside.

"Professor, am I in trouble? I'm not terribly sure what I've done this time," the terrified youth asks as he stands in the middle of her office awkwardly.

She shakes her head with another smile that hopefully helps to put him more at ease. "No, Neville—it is Neville, right? —" she starts. He nods, and she smiles brighter, proud of herself for getting it right. "No, you're not in trouble. I just wanted to talk with you about something I've heard the other Fourth Years say. Please, come sit." She gestures towards her little collection of furniture. He nervously shuffles over to the small sofa for visitors, all the while still giving off the air of fear. "Would you like anything to drink or eat? I've got a few options. There's always tea-which you all seem to enjoy quite a bit, chai—my personal beverage of choice, coffee if you're like my heathen of a husband, water, or I could see if I can find something else for you if none of those seem like your thing. As for food, I've got some pastry items, like slices of this really good chocolate cake or cookies, although I think you lot call them biscuits here. I think I even have some snacky nutty type things around here somewhere," she offers as she goes over to the little table with all the mentioned food and drink items and starts making herself another chai. One of these days, she'll drink water or something else—oh, who is she kidding? That's totally not gonna happen when Chai is an option.

"I-I don't need anything, Professor," he mumbles. She glances over her shoulder to study him.

"Are you sure, Neville? I really don't mind. Do you mind if I call you that? I know I'm technically supposed to call you Mr. Longbottom, but I feel like that's just too impersonal."

"No, I-I really don't mind. I…um…I actually like that you know our names or at least try your best to know them. I-if you really don't mind, I'll have whatever you're having please," he concedes. She nods and pulls out another mug for the student. Knowing herself, she usually ends up making more than necessary since one mug is very rarely enough to sate her thirst, so she doesn't have to make extra for her student, although she definitely would have if necessary. "Would you like a snack as well?"

"No, thank you," is all she gets back.

Drinks made, she carefully carries them over to the sofa and sits, leaving a good amount of space between them so that it is appropriate and doesn't make either of them uncomfortable. She hands him his chai and watches as he hesitantly takes a few sips. When he smiles as he savors the taste on his tongue, she cheers to herself. Another converter to the love of chai! Then they sit for a few minutes simply enjoying their drinks.

"Neville, before I say anything else," she begins, breaking the silence between them, "I want you to know that I'm not one to gossip or talk behind people's backs. That said, I am also a teacher here now, and teachers like to talk to each other about our students to see how we think they're doing, including me. Now, with that in mind, I was told that Alastor's class last week caused many of the students to feel very…uncomfortable during and after his lesson, including you. In fact, he said that you became especially upset. I wanted to talk to you about it earlier but haven't had the chance until now. Neville, are you alright? You don't have to say anything at all if you don't want to, but please know that you can talk to me whenever you need to or want to about anything, and I will listen."

He stays silent another good few moments before speaking. "He was showing us the Unforgivable Curses. He said that he thought we ought to know what we might run into if we ever ran into a Dark Wizard," he tells her, not looking up from his chair. He lets out a shaky breath before continuing. "My parents were tortured by Death Eaters using the Cruciatus Curse. I-I didn't like seeing him use it on a spider, even if he was only using it so that we'd know what the spell does, and it was only a spider. I-i-if it hurt the spider that much for only a few moments, then it had to have hurt my parents that much or more! It-it drove them mad, you see."

Listening to him, Darcy's heart breaks for the boy. She wants to tell him that she's sorry. She's sorry that Alastor, the absolute idiot, decided to demonstrate the spell that drove his parents insane from pain in the first place. She's sorry that life's already fucked him over, but she's sure that whatever version of "I'm sorry" she could say would only sound cheap. She doesn't doubt that he's already heard some version of the phrase more times than he'd care to mention. Instead, she tells him that she'll always be open to talk, should he want to, even if it's one at night, regardless of curfew. As long as she's on the school grounds, she'll always be an ear to listen. She was never sorted, so she has no allegiance to one House, and she wants everyone to know that she's a safe space for all the students regardless of their House, age, and Blood status (because, what the actual fuck, that's actually a huge deal to magic folk).

"Thank you, Professor," he says with a trace of a smile.

"It's Darcy," she gently reminds him. "You know, I've also heard that you have a gift for plants! I, unfortunately, have no such gift and am in fact absolutely horrible with them, despite how much I try to keep them alive. I have this plant that I'm sure is just a breath away from death. Would you like to look and see if you can save it?"

He meets her eyes and smiles wider. "Yes, please!"

She laughs lightly and gets up. He follows as she goes over to her desk where a sad, dejected-looking Asphodel flower sits in a pot, all sad and wilted like. "I love plants, but it's honestly pathetic how bad I am at keeping them even semi-alive. It's a curse or something, I swear. Severus, bless my man, despite knowing full well how bad I am with plants, gave this to me as a gift for becoming a teacher here, but as you can see, it's already not doing so well in my care. Think you can do anything or is it a lost cause?"

"An asphodel!" His eyes brighten as he analyzes the flower. He sets his mug down to inspect it more closely. She looks over at the mug to find it empty of chai and picks it up. Then she goes over to her dirty dishes spot to put both her mug and his there, leaving the excited youth to the plant. That done, she returns to her desk.

"So, what's the verdict? Do you think you can do anything?" she asks. "Is there hope?"

"Sure, all you have to do it—" Then he's listing all the possible cures for her plant.

She laughs. "That sounds extensive and like a list of things I'll definitely forget. Hey, how about this! Would you mind taking care of it for a while? I'm seriously dismal at keeping plants happy, and I already know that if I tried all those things you just suggested, I'd _still_ end up killing the poor thing! It would be in way safer hands with you."

"Oh, um, sure, Ms. Darcy!" She lifts the pot and hands it to him, which he takes with an awestruck smile.

"No, thank _you_ , Neville! I'm sure my plant would be dead in a couple more days if you didn't agree to save it!" she chirps. She glances at the clock and is surprised to see that nearly an hour has gone by. "As much as I like talking with you, I think you may need to scoot to your next class already, which happens to be in a few minutes. You could take your new charge to your dorm and then head to class, or you could come back here to pick it up later today, whichever is easiest for you. If anyone asks why you're late, tell them you were with me, and I'll vouch for you."

"Alright, I think it would be easier to pick it up later then. Ms. Darcy, thank you for…everything."  
"You are very welcome. Now, hurry. You don't want to be any later than I've already made you!" She walks him to the door and opens it for him. "Please, I'm always willing to talk or listen should need or want me. I have your number, so even if it's just a quick text, don't be afraid to talk!"

"I will," he says with a nod and then walks down the corridor.

She shuts the door behind him with a sigh. He seems like a very sweet kid, and she really hopes he'll take her up on her offer of an ear to listen.

* * *

Later, as Darcy makes her way towards the Great Hall for dinner, Darcy finds one of her students from her Third Year class wandering the near-empty halls, searching for something. "Hello, Ms. Lewis," the student greets, her long, icy-blond hair flowing down her back.

Darcy searches her mind's list of names before speaking. "Hi, Luna, yes?" the brunette replies.

"Very good, Professor," Luna says in a dreamy, soft tone. Darcy pumps her fist in celebration that she'd remembered correctly and beams.

"What are you doing down here? Everyone else is mostly in the Hall eating already. In fact, I was just about to go there myself since apparently I'm told that teachers are highly 'encouraged' to eat in the Hall for meals."

"I'm searching for my shoes. The other Ravenclaws like to take them and hide them from me."

"Seriously? I know kids can be mean, but that's just being shitty."

"It's not that horrible, Professor. I usually manage to find them within a day or two."

"Luna, that doesn't make it any better. They shouldn't be doing it in the first place. Would you like some help looking for them?" Darcy offers, notions of food pushed to the back of her mind.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I think I'm close," Luna replies, sending her a soft smirk.

"Well, then, with two of us, we'll find it them that much sooner. Then we can both get something to eat," Darcy reassures with a smile.

"Alright, thank you," Luna acquiesces, and the pair walk in silence for a while before she speaks again. "I must say, you're quite nice and very much like I thought Professor Snape's wife would be like," she comments as they look for her missing shoes.

This surprises Darcy and brings a baffled smile to her lips. "Really? Nearly everyone else thought I'd be more like him, all gloomy and snippy and strict and Mr. Grumpy."

Luna shrugs. "Well, he always seemed so lonely, like he was missing someone, which I suppose is you. Now that you're here, he's still strict and can be rather mean and scary, but he doesn't seem as lonely. I always thought that he'd marry someone like you, kind and warm but strong, someone who could balance his roughness, and it seems I was right."

"That's very insightful, Luna. You're pretty good at reading people."

"I see things, I suppose. Everyone calls me Loony, but I don't mind. I'm simply sorry for them because they can't see what I can."

"That's awful! Obviously, one thing hasn't changed, no matter what school or time: kids can be stupid and such bullies." Darcy looks up to find a Mary-Jane style shoe floating randomly in the air a few feet ahead of them. She points it out to the girl next to her, who then pulls out her wand and calls the lone shoe to her. Then the two of them return to walking, and several moments of comfy silence passes before Darcy decides to break it. "You've said a bit now that you see things that you think others don't. Could you explain that please?"

"Oh, I know they can't see them, just like you couldn't see the wrackspurts circling your head earlier."

Now, most people, after hearing that creatures with a weirdass name had been buzzing around their head without being noticed, would either freak the fuck out or say that Luna was crazy and seeing shit in her head. Darcy is not most people, especially after her experience, so instead of flipping out, she shrugs and wants to know more. "Wrackspurts? I've never heard of them. What do they do?"

"They circle people's heads and make them confused and fuzzy too."

Okay, cool.

Darcy tries to hide her smile at the description because she doesn't want Luna to believe that she thinks Luna is crazy too. No matter how strange the creatures sound or how strange it is that Luna seems to be the only one who can see them, Darcy actually believes her student. Darcy's tased a god, seen the same dude be Scotty'd up into the sky by some rainbow tube thingy, married a man who can do magic, has a mother-in-law ( _and_ a father-in-law too apparently) who looks to be in her mid-twenties but is actually nearly four times that, works as a liaison for a team of legit, actuals superheroes between them and _other_ superheroes and governments, has a fantastic mutation of her own, and has seen and done so much more ludicrous shit that a girl at a magic school (that Darcy also happens to teach at, what the fuck) who sees creatures that no one else can is really not all that surprising if Darcy really thinks about it. And, gah, does it give her the beginnings of a headache when she thinks about the craziness of her life that she happens to love! Plus, Luna doesn't seem like the type of person to lie or make up shit like that or to be that off her rocker.

"Well, I had just gotten up from a cat nap. Maybe they're attracted to people who've just woken up?" Darcy suggests, glancing over at the Ravenclaw.

"Oh, I'd never thought about that! Perhaps that's why I see them circling the heads of people in the mornings so often! Thank you for the idea!"

"Happy to help, Luna. Now, what else have we go to find?"

"Oh, that was the last thing. I'd already found my other shoe by the time you joined me."

"Then how about we drop your shoes off at your dorm and then head over to the Great Hall? I'm sure there will still be food. If there isn't, then we can see if we can find some food in my kitchen," Darcy offers.

"Alright," Luna agrees.

They make their way to the Ravenclaw Tower, chatting easily.

"I heard about what you said to Neville this morning," Luna comments.

"Oh? Okay. Well, I hope you know that the same applies to you and any other student in the school. I want you all to know that all of you can come talk to me about anything at any time, provided I'm on the grounds. If I'm away, then feel free to call me. My phone is set up so I'll be able to be reached by any of the school phones regardless of where I am on the earth. I remember being your ages and just wanting a friend to listen, and I want to be that for all of you, regardless of House or blood status, which I still believe to be absolutely ridiculous," Darcy tells her.

"Professor?"

"You know you don't have to call me that, right? I prefer Darcy or even Ms. Lewis if you're feeling formal. Anyway, yes?"

"I think you'll do brilliantly."

"Thank you, Luna, I will certainly try."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, folks! Hope you all enjoyed it! Hopefully, there won't be such a long wait for the next chapter. Have a great day!**


	8. Part 7: Severus

**Hi...So yeah, I'm alive, and I sincerely apologize to those who have been waiting so patiently for an update. A lot of things happened IRL, and I barely had time to finish this. Hopefully, the next chapter isn't too far behind this one.**

 **This chapter is unbeta'd, as usual, but also probably filled with lots of mistakes because I was trying my damned hardest to get it to you all as soon as it was finished. Please let me know if you spot any painful mistakes and enjoy, dear ones!**

* * *

"She's Slytherin. Gotta be. She's not only married to Snape, but she's devious like one. I mean, remember that Howler Moody got because of her?"

"No way, mate! That Howler was a total Gryffindor move! Only a Gryffindor would be so… _obvious_. Plus, she's Gryffindory, sticking up against bullying like that."

"Nah, she's too…smart to be a Gryffindor."

"What about Granger? She's a Gryffindor, and people are calling her the brightest witch of our age."

"Yeah, but she also hangs with Potter and Weasley. I'd say not so much. She reads… _a lot_ and actually _tries_ with the homework. Outside of class? Eh…sure, she's pretty smart, but not sure I'd say she's the smartest or brightest witch of our age. Anyway, Ravenclaw. Ms. Lewis has got to be Ravenclaw. That's all that's left! She's totally smart enough to be a Ravenclaw!"

Severus smirks at the group of students as he walks up to them. "You forget, there _is_ a _fourth_ House," he comments in the silence before walking past the group and down the hallway, smirking at the no doubt gawking expressions on the faces of the students he leaves behind.

Darcy has never been and most likely never will be officially Sorted, but he does have a legitimate, strong suspicion as to which House she'd be Sorted into if the damned hat were ever placed on her head.

While she has the spades of courage and chivalry that Gryffindors are known for, she has the wit and eagerness to learn about seemingly any and everything that could easily match any Ravenclaw. While also just like a Slytherin, Darcy is not at all afraid of using her cunning, strategic thinking mind to get her way, but Severus holds no doubt that her loyal, steadfast soul would win over the Sorting Hat.

Regardless, he also knows that she won't get Sorted unless it's for the sole purpose of a prank or other such nonsense. She hates the system of division that Sorting causes too much.

As for Severus, while he also dislikes how biased those in the Wizarding community who aware of how Hogwarts' Sorting system works can be, he has not minded the system too much. Yes, it can be quite annoying that those who know about the Sorting system tend to automatically dislike him based solely on his Slytherin membership, but it has also aided him in particular circumstances. He can recall a few cases where belonging to a House that has the reputation of being a Dark House has actually allowed him the ability to complete missions far more under the radar than he estimates he'd have been able to if he were, for say, a Gryffindor.

Of course, he still very much so agrees with Darcy that the House system is ridiculous and unfair in the way it turns fellow classmates against each other. He also simply uses it to his advantage just like his mother, the bit of training the Red Room gave him, and his natural Slytherin tendencies have taught him to do.

Thinking of Darcy, his mind wanders to settle on the reason as to why he is currently seeking her out. The Triwizard Tournament. Watching Darcy rip into Clinton as her way of both greeting the archer and letting her worry shine through, Severus had again been reminded of the fact that she is still unaware of the upcoming events concerning Hogwarts and its students. More accurately, it's caused him to imagine what her reaction will be at learning that she's one of the very last people involved to know. Understanding that he'd only be in more trouble if he waits, he's decided to tell her today. After all, procrastinating has simply prolonged the inevitable.

Breakfast ended around twenty minutes ago, and he'd made up his mind earlier that telling her after the morning meal would be best. Thus, he is currently walking down the corridors of the dungeon to her office. Hopefully, with the full stomach and Chai in her bloodstream, she'll be more positively receptive to the news than she'd be without such sustenance. In addition, he's hoping that the little extra time it took to eat and walk to her office will be enough for him to organize his thoughts before having to present them to Darcy.

When he finally arrives in front of her office door, he knocks. After receiving permission to enter, he opens the door and walks inside, glad to find that she's alone as many students have taken to visiting her between classes. She's at her desk, going through a file on her computer. She looks up with a brilliant smile when she notices him standing there.

"Hey," she greets, "how can I help you? What's up?"

"I need to tell you something. It's quite important," he begins.  
Her brow crinkles when she hears the urgency in his tone, and she closes the piece of technology in front of her to him her full attention.

"Alright, what's up? What is it? It can't be that bad, can it?" she asks.

 _If only,_ is all he can think.

He breathes deeply before speaking. "What I'm about to tell you has already been set in motion, and there is truly nothing you or I can do to stop it. I also did not have a say in the matter," he adds in a placating tone. She arches her eyebrow, unimpressed.  
"Okay, then just tell me, because your little warning just made me pretty suspicious that whatever you're about to tell me, I'm not gonna like. It can't be _that_ bad, right?" she questions with a slightly narrowed gaze.

He inhales and then exhales deeply, gathering his thoughts, before launching into his explanation, telling her everything and leaving nothing out. He tells her about the history of the tournament, doing his best to also explain the rules and the roles of the staff. He also explains how Dumbledore has decided to put the student-only event back into effect this year, and how Hogwarts herself will be in the role of host this year. Despite his hesitance to do so, he also shares the dangers associated with the tournament in past years _and_ the main reason its continuation was halted: the death rates. By the time he's finished telling her, her face has fallen into a solemn, unimpressed expression.

"What?" she shrieks at such a high volume and pitch that it'd be a surprise if the whole damned castle doesn't hear it. She shoots to her feet in outrage and slaps the surface of her desk so violently Severus knows her hands must be stinging from the force of the gesture. She leans towards him over her desk, a dangerous glint in her eyes and showing just how unimpressed she is with the Triwizard Tournament. Then she's pointing a finger at him while using her desk as a support, poking him in the chest from the ferocity of the gesture. He winces as he prepares himself for her reaction. Darcy Lewis on a warpath is enough to scare anyone into shying away from her. "You _damn_ well better be _bullshitting_ me, Severus Tobias Snape Romanov!" She punctuates each word with a violent jab. He winces again at the use of his full, full name. She even invoked his mother's name, which only the Avengers, the Avengers by Association (Jane, Maria, Rhodey, Pepper, Darcy, Fury, and Coulson when he'd been alive) and his parents know about. Not even his S.H.I.E.L.D. file has such knowledge open to anyone aside from those previously mentioned. As for the magic community, as neither his father nor his mother, even after escaping the Red Room, ever "officially" adopted him in the eyes of the law, no spell has it registered that he's a Romanov. Darcy only uses the Romanov name when she's beyond pissed, and right now, she is definitely beyond pissed. Though, hopefully, more at the situation than at him personally.

"Darce, it wasn't my idea. I had absolutely no say in the matter and am just as _happy_ about it as you are," he interjects in a placating manner.

She breathes deeply and leans back, relaxing her stance ever so slightly enough to cross her arms over her chest and shift her weight to one side. "Then whose half-assed, hairbrained, clusterfuck of a jackshit ' _idea'_ was it?" she hisses with an unimpressed arch of her eyebrow.

He huffs out a heavy sigh. "It was a tradition long ago, as I've already mentioned, and Albus—along with the other Heads of House when I was not present, I can only assume—came to the conclusion that now would be a prime time to reinstate the tournament."

At his explanation, her expression falls into a deep frown, and she leaves her desk to instead begin pacing the length of her office. Relieved to finally have the weight of Darcy not knowing about the tournament now lifted off his shoulders, Severus sinks into one of the chairs at his side and observes his furious wife.

"Seriously? _That's_ his fucked-up logic? Those stupidass traditions damn well _stopped_ for a fucking reason! A.) It was ages ago! B.) They're fucking _kids!_ Sure, they probably wouldn't appreciate being called kids, but as far as I'm concerned, especially in this circumstance, still in grade-school—Year-school, whatever—they're kids. Fucking kids! And _C.),_ because apparently A and B just aren't good enough for him, the death rate was getting too high! Honestly, the fact that there is even a fucking _death rate_ -a _death rate, Severus—_ to begin with, should be enough for the tournaments to never ever be a thing again, but of course, it isn't! This is not fucking Panem or the Colosseum! No one, no matter what age, should be putting their lives on the line for shit as stupid and worthless as fame and money!" She stops in the middle of the line she'd been drawing in the flooring and turns to face him, her eyes steely and hard. "And you are absolutely _sure_ that there is no way to I can convince anyone to stop the tournament?"

He frowns and shakes his head. "I've tried, but no one will listen to reason now. They are much too excited for the tasks and the Yule Ball and meeting the visiting schools to listen to me. With my history here, I had thought perhaps my name and reputation would lend me more power of persuasion. Seeing as I have obviously not been able to persuade them off the ridiculous idea, I highly doubt you, someone whom most didn't even know existed until the beginning of the school year, will be able to achieve stopping the tournament from taking place. However, I most certainly will not hinder any attempts you make and will gladly support you."

At first, there's a righteous, blazing fury lighting up her face, her eyes aflame, before a moment passes, and it's like a switch has been toggled. Instead of a fire roaring to life, her eyes harden in resignation and glow with the slow ember of a challenge. "Fine, if I can't stop these damned games, then I'm going to help the champions. No one is getting more than a scratch if I can help it. And for fuck's sake, I damned well can. I just want to know one more thing."

"Yes?" he arches an eyebrow.

" _Why_ am I only hearing about this now and not earlier? Like when I damned well agreed to taking the job because this is actually important shit to know! Did everyone know before me?"

"You've been busy, and you were only asked a couple weeks before the start of the semester to teach here. I'm sure you'd have been informed soon enough before the tournament began if I hadn't told you now."

"Jesus, Severus! 'Before they start?' Good thing you told me now!" She throws her hands into the air with exasperation and rolls her eyes.

"Darcy, love," he tries before being cut off by a growl from her.

"Dude, don't you 'love' me! Your little sweet-talking is _not_ gonna work on me right now. This tournament shit is something I should've known when you asked me if I wanted to teach here!" she screeches.

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, calming himself as best he can with such a minute action. "I realize that now, Dare, and I truly am sorry that I hadn't informed you earlier. However, I cannot change the past."

She huffs but nods. "Damn straight," she grumbles. "I guess I kinda understand. Despite it being such a huge topic, it really hasn't been the most important topic and doesn't _that_ just say something about how crazy our lives are. We have been super busy, and there really hasn't been a time when it could naturally just be brought up. We've been so stressed too."

"Again, I apologize for letting the subject slip my mind." He stands and walks over to her. She huffs again but lets him gather her into his arms, in return wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I know, and I forgive you…eventually." When she pulls back, she sends him a determined expression. "Now that I know, you better know that I've gonna do damn well everything in my power to help the champions."

"I know. Actually, I'd be highly surprised if you didn't. I will offer my assistance to whoever is willing to accept it as well."

Before she can remark on his wording, a knock on her office door interrupts. He growls under his breath at the intrusion. "What?" he barks, sliding the door open only slightly large enough to see through.

"Oh, sir? Is Ms. Lewis there too?" a hesitant student asks. "We've been looking all over the castle for you two."

"It didn't occur to you or any of the others in 'we' to check either of our offices first? Yes, she'd here. As am I. Now, what do you want?" Darcy walks over and looks up at him to arch an eyebrow, silently chastising him for snapping at the poor student. He sighs. "Thank you for informing us. Is there something you needed from us?" he calls back in a kinder tone.

"There's someone looking for you, both of you."

"Did they give you a name?" Darcy asks, opening the door slightly wider so she can see as well.

"No, ma'am. He just asked for his Science Bro, and when we couldn't figure out who he was talking about, he asked for 'the scariest professor with the really black hair who is a snakehead or the teacher with the phones and the sass.' Apparently, he also came out of your rooms? You two seemed like the best options," the student, who Severus has now identified as Theodore Nott, replies hastily.

"Where is he now, Theo?" Darcy asks, apparently also recognizing the Slytherin Fourth Year.

"Oh, he's—" the youth is cut off by another voice.

"I'm right here! Hiya, Darce! Hiya, Sev!" a new, achingly familiar voice chirps, and Tony Stark nudges the Slytherin out of his way to stand right in front of the door instead of off to the side like he was previously. "Mind letting me in? This whole talking through a crack thing just isn't my style. Plus, we're making quite a scene! And this time it's not because of who _I_ am, more like _where_ I am and _why_ I'm here! Which, by the way, _what the hell_? How can these many munchkins _not_ know who I am? Sevvy! What are you teaching these kids? Should I be worried? SCIENCE! Bros don't betray each other like this! And I even brought presents, which are getting heavy! Come on, let me in! Lewis! I'm highly disappointed in you! How can you teach modern history without mentioning me—?" Tony rambles on at eighty miles a minute, and Severus just barely makes out his words.

" _Tony!_ " Darcy squeals and flings open her office door wide open dramatically.

"Sparkles!" the billionaire squeals back.

"What are you doing here, Calcifer?" Darcy questions as she wraps the man in a bearhug, easily maneuvering around the box in his arms.

"I'm here to see our darling Howl, Mononoke! I need some of his genius and expertise!" Stark cheers.

Severus looks past his friend and is barely able to hold back a snicker at seeing the crowd of students and staff members failing to be inconspicuous as they stare, enraptured with curiosity at Tony's sudden appearance. He can hardly blame them though.

This makes Avengers in only two months! In all his years of teaching, before this semester, his mum and Clint had never deigned to actually step foot on castle grounds during the school year, always preferring to meet at Hogsmeade where there were fewer students. In fact, the only times he can remember his mother even stepping foot on the grounds are when she came to inspect it after he'd gotten his acceptance letter at eleven years old. Before allowing him to become a Hogwarts student, she'd staked out the castle and persuaded Dumbledore to give her a private tour (while in one of her plethora of disguises, naturally). Other than that, he really can't seem to recall her ever coming back until she came back to pick up Darcy (and incidentally him as well) on her way to South Korea. His mum's display of having never been to Hogwarts had been an act to throw off Dumbledore, Severus highly suspects.

First mum.

Now Tony.

Who next? The whole team?

"Haku! Look! I've brought goodies!" his teammate cheers and lifts his box.

"Why, may I ask, are you here? Need I remind you, it's a school team still?" Severus replies.

"Course I remember, Sev! How could I forget with all the kiddies around?" the other man says with a shrug. "I'm a genius."

"And in my experience, boo, that means you lost your common sense!" Darcy teases.

"Eh, lose a little common sense. Gain a little genius! Total evensies! Actually, nope. I win! I get the genius _and_ the people with common sense! Like Sparkles and Pep!" Tony snarks back as he sets his things on the coffee table.

"If you remember, then what was so important that you had to come here? I suppose you used the floo?" Severus presses.

"Oh, yeah! I need you to look over the schematics of the suit and your Fangs, maybe even Nat's Bites," his eccentric friend says. "Of course, I used the Flying Through!"

"It's literally only one syllable," Severus grumbles.  
"But it's so much fun to mispronounce!" Darcy chirps with a grin. Severus sends his wife and then his friend an unimpressed look before turning to address the rest of students and professors still waiting out in the hallway who are most likely highly entertained.

"Thank you, Theo," the Potions Master tells the youth, who nods and gathers his group of friends before dispersing from the sea of faces. Then the Avenger/Hogwarts Professor snarls at the remaining gathered crowd. "Leave. You've had your entertainment of the day. Now leave, before I force you," he orders. In less than a minute, the once full hallway empties. His lips curl into a satisfied smirk in response. Then he turns back to face the brunette duo, who stare at him highly amused at his antics.

"Aw, there he is! Our big, bad, scary Wolf!" Darcy coos with a dramatic clapping and bright, teasing smile as he closes the door behind him.

"Nicely done. You must have so much fun scaring the munchkins and any baby agents you met back when SHIELDRA was still a thing. Anyway, now, on to more important things, like SCIENCE! Severus, my brother in SCIENCE! —" Anthony starts.

"Despite the fact that I don't actually have a degree in any scientific field," Severus cuts in.

His comment is waved away by his friend, who continues to speak over the interruption. "Eh, you have those potions of yours, and you're the top expert in the world on earth 'magic' and SCIENCE! Close enough. Anyway, look, I've brought you the newest upgrade of your specialty Fangs!" the mechanic says.

The Snape-Lewis dup simultaneously curl their lips into concerned frowns. "Tony, you don't have to keep doing this. The older versions of my Fangs are perfectly fine. I know you gave up weapons manufacturing years ago after Afghanistan," he tells his friend and teammate.

The cheery, bubbly expression on the other man's face falls to be replaced by one of seriousness. "I-I-I know that. I just…I don't want you, any of you, to get hurt because your tech failed when I could've prevented it. Besides, at least with you all, I know exactly who is using my tech. It's not—" he breathes deeply, his shoulders heaving with the movement of it. "—it's not like before. Ugh. You two are horrible, making this a Feels Festival!" The older man's hands reach down to grab a piece of machinery, which he immediately starts fiddling and tinkering with. His eyes never meet of the couple.

"Tony, we all put our lives on the line, and it's _our_ choice. If we get hurt, that's on _us_. Not you," Severus begins softly.

" _Any_ tech you give the team is a _gift_ , not something that is expected of you as penance for any past mistakes. You're not a weapons manufacturer, not anymore. You gave that up, and I respect you so much for it," Darcy continues with complete, real sincerity.  
"As do I," Severus adds.

"You're a good man, Tony, and the weight of the world is not yours alone. It never was and never will be. You've got a whole team of people," Darcy finishes.

In return, they get a single nod.

Then the other Avenger is sighing dramatically. "Okay, alright. Feels of the week, I can put a check mark there!" Then he mimes writing an overly large check-mark in the air. "Now, on to the tech! Look!" He digs through the box and pulls out one of Severus' Wolf Fangs, a tiny disk that contains a dose of nitrogen, which can be lethal in the right dosage. "I've been working on these, and I think I've managed to add a few dosages and make it easier for you to switch between lethal and a nonlethal one! I think I even made one high enough to take out the Hulk, if we're lucky and my calculations were right. I love the Big Guy, but I really don't think he's the only one like him out there, and we gotta be prepared. If we're ready for someone like him, then we'll be ready for near anything, I hope."

"Well done, thank you. Now, why are you actually here? You could've waited until I came back to the Tower to tell me this," Severus presses once again while Darcy laughs at the both of them.

"Oh, yeah! I need your magical expertise on getting the suit to work in a heavily magical area so that it doesn't short out…" Tony babbles on, and thus starts a couple of hours of SCIENCE! in Darcy's office that lasts until the two Hogwarts professors have to teach and the inventor is then returned to New York.


	9. Part 8: Darcy

**Hi all,**

 **Happy winter holidays to you! I'm currently recovering from wisdom teeth removal, so if something looks a bit wibbly wobbly wonky, please let me know! I'll fix it straight-o way!**

 **Also, as for the translated languages, please let me know if you spot a mistakte!**

 **Normal disclaimers and unbeta warning apply. Enjoy, lovelies.**

* * *

One could feel the energy crackling and dancing excitedly in the air. Darcy, being especially in tune with electricity, can feel it even better. Everyone waits with baited breath outside for the delegations from the other two schools participating in the Triwizarding Tournament to arrive. Beside her, she can tell that even Severus is anxious for the other two schools to arrive already. The married couple hold each other's hands in a tight grip. In front of them, the crowd of Hogwarts students is abuzz with chatter as everyone's patience dies with each passing moment. She herself can barely contain her anticipation for their guests' arrival, despite her distaste at having to admit that the goddamned Tournament will be happening after all, regardless of her many protests. She still remembers the moment that she had found out about the stupid contest between schools. She smirks as she also remembers the very heated _discussion_ they'd had on the topic.

After a few more moments of waiting, Dumbles speaks loudly above the hum of excited conversation goin on around them. A school party has arrived.

Something in the sky has been judged to be one half of the long awaited foreign students. The thing carrying them is huge and flying right towards the waiting Hogwarts students. Only a moment or two passes before Darcy can make out that it's a carriage, a fucking huge carriage that's light blue of all things and modeled like one she'd see in a fairytale, pulled by equally large Palomino _winged_ horses. The visiting students are flying in like fucking Cinderella in her carriage to the fucking ball. _Of fucking course, they are._ As it comes in for a landing in front of the gathered welcoming committee, the students on the ground are forced to take a step back to make room and avoid being trampled on by the giant ass horses—although technically she can call them Pegasuses (pegasusi?). Once the carriage has landed, they only have to wait a moment before a boy jumps down from the carriage and unfolds a set of gold—like real fucking gold?—stairs in front of the door. Then the largest lady Darcy can safely and truthfully say she has ever seen in her life walks out of the carriage. It's not that the lady is overweight or anything of the sort, and being on the heavier side of life is not _wrong_ by any means. It's just that the lady is like her carriage and horses—instead of being hit with a shrink ray, it's like she's been zapped by a big ray. From what Darcy can tell, she's about the same height as the half-giant, Hagrid, who teaches Care of Magical Creatures, or a little taller, so she must have some significant level of giant genes running through her veins. After her, around a couple dozen students or so pile out of the vessel behind her.

Despite the weather, the students seem to only be wearing silk clothing, or at least a fabric just like it. They look like they're freezing, the poor dears. Even the tall lady, who Darcy guesses to either be a teacher or even the Head professor of Beauxbaton or Durmstrang with her fur scarf thingy, looks cold. When Dumbles offers to let them warm up or stay and wait for the other school to arrive, Darcy has to hold in an unimpressed scoff and keep from rolling her eyes. Those poor students are obviously cold, some even shivering! Honestly, Darcy is kinda cold herself and doesn't really feel like waiting for the last school, so she and Severus, who decides to tag along with her, follow the newcomers into the castle. Judging by the accent of the Head when she answers Dumbles with the decision to warm up, Darcy guesses that this is the French school's delegation.

Inside, she calls upon all her knowledge of French, which despite being a World Languages minor at Culver, still has a bit to be desired and is a little rusty, and tries to help the French visitors warm up by having them sit at the Ravenclaw table. While she does this, Severus summons them something warm to drink. "Merci, madame. Merci, monsieur. ( _Thank you, madam. Thank you, sir._ )" the chilled youth say as they warm up and consume the offered drinks.

"Vous êtes les bienvenus. ( _You are very welcome._ )" Darcy replies as she walks by. She can tell by the widening eyes that they didn't expect her to return their language.

After she has been assured that her students are comfortable, the large lady goes over to where Darcy and Severus stand. "Bonjour, je suis Madame Maxime, directrice de Beauxbaton. Il fait très froid et nous ne nous attendions pas à ce qu'il soit. ( _Hello, I am Madam Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbaton. It is very cold, and we did not expect it to be_.)" she says. Then she gestures to her students. "Merci, madame et monsieur. Vous n'aviez pas à le faire. ( _Thank you, madam and sir. You did not have to do it._ )"

"Vous êtes les bienvenus, Madame Maxime. Bonjour, je suis professeur Darcy Lewis. Vous pouvez m'appeler Darcy si vous le souhaitez. ( _You are very welcome, Madam Maxime. Hello, I'm Professor Darcy Lewis. You can call Darcy if you wish._ )" Darcy replies with a smile.

"Je suis professeur Severus Snape. Vous êtes les bienvenus. ( _I am Professor Severus Snape. You are very welcome._ )" her husband says with a nod and a smirk. Madam Maxime gives them a nod and small smile in return.

Once the three professors are sure that the French students are well on their way to getting warmer, they head over to the entrance of the Hall to wait for the Durmstrang delegation and the rest of the Hogwarts residents to come inside. Not long after, Hogwarts students arrive first and fill in the seats at their respective House tables. Then a group of youth that Darcy guesses to be the Bulgarians shuffle into the entrance way. However, that's as far as they dare go. After a moment or so of watching them look around the Hall with big, hesitant eyes, Darcy goes over to them.

"Здравей! ( _Hello there!_ )" she says with what she hopes is a warm, welcoming smile. While she's never officially learned Bulgarian like she did French when studying for her Minor and then for her current job—her main languages being French, Mandarin, Arabic, and Spanish—she's tried her best to learn basic phrases and greetings in Bulgarian since she learned who the other two Tournament delegations would be. She figured that while she may not be anywhere near fluent in the southern Slavic language, she should at the very least give them the courtesy of trying to learn some of their own tongue.

The small group of Bulgarian students turns to her as one. "Здравейте, мадам. ( _Hello, madam._ )" they reply, obviously slightly confused that she knows their language.

"Знаеш ли българин? ( _You know Bulgarian_?)" one of them asks.

"Аз знам малко. Поздрави и основни изрази. ( _I know a little. Greetings and basic phrases._ )" she tells them.

"Хубаво е. ( _It is good._ )" another compliments her.

"Благодаря ти. Знаете ли английски или френски ( _Thank_ _you_ _._ _Do you know English or French?_ )" Darcy asks. She mentally crosses her fingers in hopes that they understand English better than she knows Bulgarian because she doubts her baby Bulgarian and toddler Russian will cut it. They all nod, and she does a relieved happy dance in her mind. "Do you need help deciding where to sit?"

"Yes, ve vere not told vhere to sit," a tall, muscular boy with thick, defining brown eyebrows tells her. Oh, thank Thor! She would've been so lost if they didn't know English. Despite his heavy accent, he seems to know English way better than she knows Bulgarian.

"Ah, I understand. Well, from what I can tell, it's pretty much a free-for-all for you, which means that you may sit wherever you like," she informs them. This knowledge doesn't seem to help the poor confused newcomers much. Really, though, looking at the sea of Hogwarts students side-eyeing their visitors and talking amongst themselves, who wouldn't be intimidated by their expectant, watching eyes? "I'm not saying you have to—this is really a suggestion—but do you see the boy with platinum blond hair?" She points her finger in the direction of Draco over at the Slytherin table. The group nods. "That's Draco Malfoy. He's my godson and not half bad. Of course, he is my godson, and I may be a tad biased. Anyway, I'm sure he'd welcome you all if you wanted to try sitting over there. However, you are very welcome to sit at any of the four tables if you'd like, and I'm sure that all the Hogwarts students would be happy to have you at their table. I haven't worked here long myself, but from the students I've met, the majority of the students are quite friendly."

Again, she receives a collection of nods at her words. "Thank you for your assistance, Madam…?" the student next to her says with a small bow.

She smiles widely. "Lewis. I'm Darcy Lewis. It was a pleasure to help you all. Should you, any of you, need something—and I mean anything—just ask me! I'll do my best to help or point you in the direction of someone who can help!"

As one, the Durmstrang students say, "Благодаря ви, мадам Луис. ( _Thank you, Madam_ _Lewis_.)" Then, apparently deciding to trust her word that her godson will welcome them, they go over to sit at the Slytherin table and are quickly happily greeted by Draco. Satisfied that she was able to help them, she begins to return to the place where the other professors have congregated. However, when she sees Argus Filch, the castle's caretaker and someone that Darcy has yet to really, properly meet, setting out extra chairs at the Heads' Table for the extra teachers, she rushes to help. Darcy grabs one of the extra chairs, sending a small smile at Argus. He seems very surprised that she's even there at all, though.

"What do you think you're doing, professor?" he grunts as he lifts his chair. Manually and without the use of magic, she notices.

"It's Darcy, actually, and helping you," she replies. "Why don't you use magic, though? Wouldn't it be like tons easier? And not to mention faster?"

He scoffs at her, and she has to hold in a huff. She was just asking an innocent question, damnit.

"I'm a Squib," he says with a bored tone. "I thought all the teachers knew that."

Now that she thinks about it, Severus had mentioned something about Argus being a Squib, but she doesn't think he'd really explained what being a Squib really means. He'd simply said something about Squibs not having very strong magic. She stays silent for a moment as they place the chairs in their designated spots, unsure how to respond without angering him further than he clearly is.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not entirely sure what being a Squib means," she finally settles on, wincing at her own uneducatedness.

He appears surprised that she doesn't automatically understand if the raised eyebrow is anything to go by. "It means at least one parent has magic, but their child doesn't, or at best, has very weak magic. I don't have strong enough magic in me to even lift more than a feather."

She stays silent as she thinks about what's just been explained to her. It really _had_ been a loaded question, and she just hadn't known it. She makes a note to educate herself about Squibs and other such statuses so that she's better informed in the future. Sure, she's still pretty new to this whole being immersed in the Wizarding World and culture thing, but it shouldn't have been his job to educate her on something like that. "Not so sure you wanna be helping a Squib, do you now, professor," he goads, and she knows that he must have interpreted her silence as a negative response.

She nibbles on her lips slightly before coming up with a response. "No, actually, quite the opposite. I think I'm glad to work alongside you, a man who doesn't need magic to survive among these magical people," she says softly but loud enough for him to hear. As she helps him with the second pair of chairs, she catches an upwards curl of his lips and doesn't stop the one she sends in return. Once the chairs have been placed, they go their separate ways. He goes off to do whatever else he needs to do now as she goes back to the other professors. When she gets there, she finds her husband, despite being the unsocial butterfly he is, in an actual, full-on conversation with a person with shoulder-length, wavy hair that she guesses to be the Head of the Bulgarian school, Durmstrang.

"Well, look at you! My unsocial caterpillar has blossomed into a less unsocial butterfly! I'm so proud!" She mimes wiping proud tears from her eyes. "I always hoped the day would come!"

He only laughs at her theatrics and intertwines his arm with hers, grasping her hand in his. "Darcy, love, this is Igor Karkaroff, an old acquaintance of mine," he informs her. Ha, she was right! "Igor, this is Darcy Lewis, my wife."

"Come now, Severus, we are more than just acquaintances. You must admit that," Igor says with humor in his tone. Then he turns to address her with a small bow. "Ah, hello, Mrs. Snape. It is an honor to meet the woman who has managed to enrapture the heart of Severus Snape."

"Ms. Lewis, actually. I kept my last name and go by Ms. M-s—period. Only in certain cases do I go by Snape-Lewis. Also, good job with those pretty words there, buddy. И на мен ми е приятно да се запознаем! ( _Nice to meet you too!_ )" she greets.

"Ah, my apologies, Ms. Lewis. Знаете ли българин? ( _You know Bulgarian?)_ " he asks with an impressed tone.

"Много малко. Здравейте. Довиждане. Тази фраза. ( _Very little. Hello. Goodbye. That sort of phrase._ )"

"That is admirable nonetheless, Ms. Lewis," he damn near purrs. She raises an eyebrow at the tone.

"Dude, you don't need to try to sweet talk me," she snarks. "I'm not _that_ scary."

"Professor Moody would say otherwise," Severus reminds her.

"Yes, but he deserved that," she quips.

"True, love, he truly did," he agrees. She knows that her husband is not always the nicest or kindest teacher in the world, but she knows that turning a student into an animal and bouncing them around for shits and giggles as punishment is cruel even to him.

"Ha, see, I win!" she cheers and lifts to her tiptoes to land a kiss on his cheek.

"I was not aware there was even a controversy."

"Oi, shush, you, and let me have my victory."

She hears something that sounds suspiciously like "as if you don't have enough," murmured over her head, which she easily chooses to ignore. Glancing at the person watching their interaction, she sees a highly amused glint in the eyes of the Durmstrang Headmaster.

"You are talking about _the_ Alastor Moody, yes?" Igor asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yep! Oh, I guess we're sitting down now," she answers and then they're heading to the Heads' table. "You should sit next to us, Igor. I promise we won't bite."

Beside her, Severus snorts. "I certainly do not bite. Her on the other hand…" he whispers teasingly.

She swats him in the chest. "Hey! I'll have you know that I've never actually _bitten_ anyone! We both know I prefer to electrocute people _or_ smack them. I mean, it is just so much more entertaining to watch them fall." Then she quickly turns to Igor, who doesn't bother to hide the smirk on his face. "Don't worry, you're perfectly safe."

After the staff of Hogwarts, excluding Dumbles, is seated, the three Heads of schools take theirs, Igor choosing to sit next to Darcy after all. When Madam Maxime finds hers, all of her pupils stand and don't sit back down until she does, despite the laughter that Darcy hears coming from a few Hogwarts students. Of course, Albus stays standing, and silence finally commands the Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests," he starts, sending a wide smile at the foreign newcomers. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbaton guests laughs sarcastically, but Darcy understands why, even if the gesture is somewhat rude. The French party's visit at Hogwarts has already gotten off to a less than great start with the chilly weather that they obviously hadn't anticipated having to dress for so soon. Plus, she's sure that any student would prefer their school, especially one they'd been attending for 6 years now, over a new place in a completely different country with a completely different language. No one wants to be the new kid at school, and she's pretty confident that that thought is pretty Midgard-wide, regardless of any special abilities.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of this feast," the Hogwarts Headmaster says. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The old wizard sits, and the feast begins.

"Tell me, Ms. Lewis, I've known Severus for years, but I was only informed of his marriage moments ago. How long have you been married?" Igor asks between bites of food.

She sighs, _may as well get it over with_. She knew to expect these types of questions, especially since their marriage has been such a well-hidden secret, but that doesn't mean she can't find the questions annoying. "Well, it's been around 3 years of marriage and 4 years of us being together. He wasn't able to tell you about me because of safety reasons that no longer apply. We met at a job and mostly hit it off from there. No, there are no kids, and we've both agreed that if we ever have them, we'll adopt an older child because we both agree that there are so many older children out there looking to be loved by a family of their very own, and a kid doesn't have to have our blood running through their veins for us to love them wholeheartedly." _We also agreed to look into fostering or adopting older children with the X-gene first because those ones are the ones who are looked over more commonly than children who don't have the_ gene, she adds in her head. At his surprised face, she realizes that her little speech could be interpreted as rude but shrugs. "We get these questions a lot. Now, is there anything I missed?"

"What position do you have here at Hogwarts, Madam?"

"You can call me Darcy if you want. I won't mind at all. I'm the Muggle Studies professor here. Since it's an elective, my classes are combined from all 4 Houses, which gives me the ability to only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"What do you do when not teaching, might I ask? That is quite a lot of time. You must fill it somehow."

"Well, we own an apartment in Manhattan in New York, so I actually live there most of the time. Teaching here is really only a part-time job for me. I work as a liaison for a team, one that Severus is actually a founding member of."

"Hmm, and what does this team of yours do?"

"They're a lot like Aurors, but they're not loyal to any one government, although their headquarters are currently in the U.S., and much more specified. Perhaps you've heard of such a team? The Avengers?" She really highly doubts that he has since no one else in the whole month and a half that she's been a staff member at Hogwarts has made the connection, despite her face being plastered on the media all over the world and the Avengers being famous all over the world. Severus, she understands not being recognized as an Avenger since he is first and foremost a globally recognized Potions Master and professor at Hogwarts, but she doesn't really understand how she's not been outed as a Muggle, Avenger's Liaison, or an X-man yet. Apparently, the magical folk on Earth really do not keep in touch with the present-day muggle world.

"I do not believe I have…oh, perhaps I have, now that I think about it. I saw an article about such a team and some relation to MACUSA months ago, but I don't know much more than that, I admit."

Or maybe some are just way more stuck up and ignorant of anything outside of their little Wizarding World than others.

"Yep, that's them. I liaison between my team and any country and its government that they may need to operate in or any other teams they may need to partner with."

"That is a fascinating career, Darcy."

"Yeah, well, I trained in Political Science and World Languages. Plus, it's pretty fun." She shrugs.

"And you are quite wonderful at what you do, love," her husband pipes in. She sends him a wink. "Though, I'm sure the World Security Council wishes you weren't quite so talented."

At that, she laughs. "Yeah, well, it's totally not my fault they find me intimidating, all 5'3" of me," she chirps.

"You are not what I expected of a wife of Severus Snape, but that is good. You are most delightful, and I can see why he loves you," Igor compliments.

"Well, I live to surprise people," she snarks. "Oh, by the way, your students are rather nice. I got to meet them and show them where to sit."

"Yes, they are. They are the best in their class, and I know each of them personally. They are like my own," he admits.

From there, the meal goes by quickly with Darcy and Igor carrying on with the bulk of the conversation and Severus adding his two cents every now and again. About halfway through, two new people come to sit at the top table, but Darcy has no idea who they are. When she asks Severus, she finds out that they're part of the judges' panel for the tournament and merely nods in response.

At the end of the meal, Dumbledore stands once again. "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those of you who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." Applause fills the space at the introduction of each man. Darcy eyes each man as he is introduced with a faint glare. So, these are the idiots primarily responsible for allowing such a damned and dangerous game to happen. She makes a note to get to know Mr. Crouch later since she should really know the dude in charge of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Honestly, she'd also like to know why she hasn't met him already. "Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Argus brings a wooden chest ornamented with jewels up to where Dumbledore stands. "The instruction for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," he continues as the chest is put before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks, and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Darcy holds back an unimpressed snort. Okay, so the name itself for the goblet is cool, she'll give it that, but come fucking on! With an object with a name like that as the deciding factor of who gets to be a "champion," this tournament thing is going to be absolutely ridiculous and dangerous and literally only exists to boost the egos of the Heads while at the same time lowering the self-esteem of the kids who are actually the ones in danger!

She watches Dumbles take out his wand and tap it three times on the top of the casket, which apparently opens it. Then he's reaching down inside it and retrieving an old, wooden cup that's got blue flames dancing on its rim. He closes the casket to set the cup on top of it while everyone looks on.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbles says. Because, of course, he just isn't done talking yet. "Aspiring champions have 24-hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worth to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of 17 will be able to cross this line."

 _Goddamn,_ finally, Darcy hears at least the tiniest fucking _smidgeon_ of sense come out of that man's mouth. Hopefully, this means that young students won't be harmed…oh, wait. Darcy thinks about Nat and realizes that by now, the Widow would already have come up with 20 different ways to be able to get her name into the damned goblet without passing the Age Line and would've been able to do this at ease by the time she'd turned 13. Actually, if she thinks about it a bit more, Darcy is so, _so_ sure that each and every single member of her team would've been able to figure out a way around the stupid Age Line by now, even at age 13. Granted, all of her team members, including Pepper and Janey, are geniuses in their own right, but if _they_ can, then she's pretty sure that at least one of these students in front of her would be able to figure out a way as well. Seriously, any kid with a wand could just levitate their name into the cup from yards away. She also knows that many of her students are on the wealthier side of life and could just pay someone old enough to put their name in the goblet. Literally, anyone over the age of 17 can put a scrap of parchment—paper, whatever—into the cup, and it wouldn't have to be _their_ name. Well, maybe there's like a tiny possibility that she's overestimating the intelligence level of all the younger students? Usually, she hates to hope that someone is less intelligent than they really are, but this is a special case. This is literally a life and death matter, and for once, being dumber might just save someone's life.

There are so many fucking ways this can go wrong, and Darcy is positive that at least one of them will happen.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly." _So, don't have the fucking game at all!_ Darcy shouts at him in her head. _Maybe 2 % of the students who will enter will actually care about the dangers that come with being involved in this tournament. The rest of them care about the glory and the money and the fucking fame that goes along with winning!_ "Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she" — _Just say "they!" That is literally all encompassing and in fewer words!_ Darcy remarks in her mind— "is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Darcy counts to 10 in her head, _in every single language she knows,_ and sighs. The old man spoke so long that she highly doubts any of them were paying attention to any of the warnings he was giving.

This is going to be a fun shit show. Seriously. Really. Really. Fun. Like. She. Is. Already. Ready. To. Smack. Some. Sense. Into. Someone. _Anyone._


	10. Part 9: Severus

**Hi all! I'm sorry about the accidental hiatus...**

 **Anyway, I hope you'll be happy to find that this will be the longest chapter yet, so yay for that! Also, just to let you all know, some of the speaking bits during the last half are taken directly out of the book, so you don't think I'm plagiarizing! I will happily admit that I used some of Rowling's words.**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

Part 9: Severus

Finally, tonight is the night when the names of the Triwizard Tournament champions will be selected. The delegations for Durmstrang from Bulgaria and Beauxbaton from France arrived yesterday, causing everyone's excitement and anticipation for the tournament skyrocket. All day today, students eligible to compete have been adding their names to the pool of names in the Goblet of Fire. Even Severus finds himself caught up in the excitement. Of course, he would prefer one of his Slytherins be chosen, but, realistically, he also acknowledges that many of the students in the other three Hogwarts Houses also qualify for the title of Hogwarts champion. He may not be pleased that the Tournament will still be allowed to commence with all three competing schools' full endorsement and the Ministry's endorsement, but he will allow himself to admit that he is rather intrigued as to how everything will play out. It certainly will be rather interesting no matter what occurs.

While today is Friday, Severus is rather relieved that classes had gotten out half an hour early yesterday and then been canceled today. He very nearly gets a headache just thinking about the absolute travesty it would've been if he'd had to teach the bumbling students today with every single one of them no doubt much too preoccupied with the tournament and wondering about the champions to do much of anything. No doubt, the classes would've been an absolute waste of time on everyone's part.

Instead, Severus had been able to spend time with Darcy, who had decided to stay with him until after the champions are chosen before returning to the Tower for the weekend. It had been a lovely day of simply remaining in their quarters together. He had graded while she had gotten work done for her Avenger's Liaison position. They'd been able to relax and spend time with simply the two of them. In fact, he'd even been able to show her the Thestrals in the Forbidden Forest, which he was quite pleased to find that she thought was rather fantastic. Overall, while the day had been a welcome reprieve from teaching at the castle, he is ready to return home at the Tower.

It's Friday night, and Severus is ready to leave already. Normally, he'd only have classes to teach during the morning on Fridays and then be able to arrive in New York City by early afternoon. Instead, he's still at this infernal school, waiting for three brats to have their names called from the Goblet of Fire and be announced as a champion. Why, fucking why, does he still have to be the Head of Slytherin House? Specifically, why did he let Albus wheedle him into remaining at Hogwarts as the Head of Slytherin House? It's not as though Hogwarts is the only school that wants him. He receives plenty of job offers from Heads around the world to teach at their school. _Damn sentimentality_ , he grumbles mentally. Hogwarts certainly has its issues, but it's also the first place he could ever call home. True, home has always been where his mother is, but Hogwarts was the first physical place to become a constant for him. In addition to the sentimental aspects of the school, he can also say that it is somehow one of the main hubs in the British faction of the Wizarding World, which, he supposes, is useful from an intelligence perspective. However, if he weren't a Head of House, he wouldn't be required to stay at the castle to attend tonight's selection.

Severus smirks as he makes his way towards the Great Hall, listening to the students excitedly chattering about the feast and what is to follow it. While it is annoying, it is also rather amusing. Once he reaches the Hall, he enters through the side door near the staff table.

"What do you make of the new Professor Lewis? I have not had the opportunity to get to know her very well with her frequent comings and goings, you know," Pomona asks Filius as Severus nears the table. The Potions Master refuses to feel guilty for slowing his gait to listen.

"I haven't been given much of an opportunity to get to know her much either. From the few interactions I have had with her, though, I find her to be quite friendly and intelligent. I heard some of my Ravens talking about how she's introduced her students to some of the most recent Muggle communication devices. It seems she's even given them devices of their own that work on the grounds. Apparently, I'm told, Hagrid's Muggle motor-vehicle is quite behind the times compared to the devices they have not. An antique, I believe they called it," the Charms Professor chirps. "What do you make of the girl, Minerva?"

"I have had a few more interactions that the rest of you, and I must say that I quite like her. What's more, the students seem to adore her, which is the most important thing to consider," the Deputy Head of Hogwarts replies.

Severus holds in a chuckle as he hears this. As a trained spy, he naturally tends to listen to the conversations around him and hearing Darcy being brought up only hones his focus onto the trio's conversation.

"I would prefer you not gossip about Darcy. It is entirely unprofessional, rude, and can be truly hurtful. However, as you were merely stating your personal opinions and not offering each other speculative facts, I am not entirely certain one could consider that gossip. Regardless, if you should have an issue with Darcy or her teaching methods, do address them with her directly or _kindly_ keep such issues to yourself. We are not school children anymore," Severus cuts in before he continues on to his seat.

When he arrives at his seat, Darcy is already in hers, aggressively typing away on her Stark phone. He arches an inquiring eyebrow. "Is everything alright? You seem…agitated."

"Oh, I am absolutely _fantastic_ , Severus. What in the world made you believe otherwise?" she replies with a barely restrained growl, eyes not leaving the screen in her hand.

"Look, I understand that you're not exactly thrilled with this Tournament, but don't take it out on me. I did not instigate it, nor do I exactly endorse its presence here," he retorts under his breath.

"I know. I don't really blame you either. You were stuck between Thor's abs and a hard place. I'm more pissed at the whole fucking situation than I am with you. If anything, I'm pissed at Not So Crunchy and Baggy over there, sitting all pretty." He just barely holds in an amused snort at the ridiculous nicknames given to the two important Ministry Department Heads.

"You could at least restrain yourself from growling and glaring so openly. You manage just fine in Ross' presence. Those two should be a walk in the park compared to him. You're beginning to scare the students, dear. If I'm not allowed to scare students during meals then neither are you."

She grumbles but puts down her mobile to merely send her empty plate a glare. Another few beats pass and then she's glancing up at him, furious worry (yes, she somehow manages to pull the expression off quite well), painting her features. "Something's going to happen, you know, and they're not going to do anything about it. These students are going to be in danger, and they barely care. I've been thinking, and if you had told me about this fucking tournament when you had asked me to teach here this year, I'm not sure what my answer would have been.

"On the one hand, of fucking course, I'd have said no because I want no part in this stupid dick contest. On the other, I'd probably still have said yes because someone needs to help these students, and I doubt you alone would've been enough," she hisses low under her breath. Thankfully, as a sniper and a spy, Severus has acquired the skill to read lips and been trained to listen for sounds that most people wouldn't pick up, and he is able to understand her easily.

"Of course, something is going to happen. I'm certain this entire competition has been rigged, but I have yet to figure out exactly how and to what end rigging it would accomplish. I also have a strong feeling that if I had been able to tell you about the tournament when I asked if you'd be willing to teach here, you'd have hesitated for about a second before agreeing. You wouldn't have let me deal with all this alone," he tells her.

"Damnit, you're probably right," she acquiesces. "So how big of a mess do you think tonight is gonna be?"

"Tonight, the Goblet chooses the champions. Either something minor will happen or something major will happen. Currently, I am unable to tell which one will occur."

"Great." The pair watch as the Great Hall fills with students and staff, each of them eagerly awaiting the moment when the three champions will be chosen.

Igor eventually settles into the empty seat at Darcy's side after making sure all of his students are accounted for. "I'd wager it'll be Viktor. He's my best student and the most likely candidate from Durmstrang. What do you think, Darcy?" the Bulgarian Headmaster asks in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't really know much about your students, but from seeing them a bit today and your endorsement, then I'd say Viktor probably has a pretty high chance of getting picked," Darcy answers with a shrug. "I'm curious to see who gets picked from here since we have a bigger pool to choose from and a much less obvious choice."

"Ah, yes. You have many students who would make fine champions, as does Madam Maxime's Beauxbaton students! This will certainly be an interesting Tournament, will it not? Three of Europe's top magic schools competing in a Tournament of ages."

"Yes, it most certainly will be," Severus comments in the silence.

Soon, everyone is settled and eating happily. As it's Halloween, there is a feast as usual, but this meal seems to drag on longer than most as everyone anxiously waits to hear who is chosen to represent each school. Severus, who doesn't entirely agree with this whole situation, finds himself wishing the plates would clear faster in anticipation, wishing to know the results already. Beside him, he can tell that Darcy is also ready for the names to be revealed.

When the plates have finally been cleared to signal the end of the meal, Albus stands and the room silences like a switch has been flipped. "Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," the elder wizard starts. "I estimate it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Then the Headmaster of Hogwarts pulls out his wand and, with a swift flick of his wand, extinguishes the candles lighting the room, except for the ones in the floating pumpkins. Now, the only illumination left is the small flickering of the candles in the pumpkins and the Goblet of Fire with its blue flames licking along its rim.

Anticipation builds with each second that passes.

Suddenly, the blue flames turn red, and a single, singed scrap of paper spits out of the Goblet. Albus catches the paper and reads the name aloud, announcing the first champion of this year's Triwizard Tournament.

When Krum's name is called, excessive cheering and clapping fill the air. Even Darcy and Snape clap for the young wizard. Of course, the other Durmstrang delegates seem disappointed at not being chosen, but they also seem to have an air of resignation about them, as though they knew that the famous Quidditch player was always going to be chosen. Karkaroff is also understandably very expressive with his congratulations. Though, shouting at such high a volume that he can be heard over the crowd of cheers is a bit more than Severus would deem necessary.

Slowly, the Hall quiets down to wait for the next champion to be chosen. They only have to wait a few seconds before another slip of paper comes flying out of the Goblet. Fleur Delacour is chosen as the champion of Beauxbaton, and, again, the Hall erupts in cheers and applause, the two Avengers (while Darcy is not technically an Avenger, everyone on the team considers her, Pepper, and Jane to be one) joining in on the celebration. This time, however, Severus notices that the young population of the room seems to be paying close attention to the French student as she follows Krum to the side room, specifically to her appearance. As for the remaining Beauxbaton students, he notices that they seem to be taking Ms. Delacour's new title rather difficulty. After all, Severus understands that they all had a fair, even shot at being named champion, unlike the Bulgarian students, who all seemed to expect Viktor Krum would be selected. The Avenger watches as two girls burst into tears and let out sobs, taking the rejection especially hard. While he can certainly understand the disappointment at not being chosen, Severus does feel their reactions to be a touch too dramatic.

Once Ms. Delacour has exited the Hall, things tend to settle down a bit, though the excited buzz remains high in anticipation of the Hogwarts champion. A moment passes and another paper emerges from the Goblet. _Cedric Diggory._ As soon as the name has escaped through Dumbledore's lips, a roar of excitement and screams erupt from the Hufflepuff table. Every single Hufflepuff leaps up, wildly cheering and applauding their chosen one. Of course, everyone else, including his Slytherins, is joining in on congratulating the Hogwarts champion, but the Badger House students are by far the loudest. Even Severus claps genuinely for the boy in support. True, he _would_ have preferred the champion be from his own Slytherin House, but he does admit that of all the eligible, legal students, he is glad it is Cedric Diggory who will represent the UK school. If the age limit weren't an issue, Severus would've hoped for Draco to be selected, but since there is an age limit that Severus had no plan to ignore as it would be a horrible example to his students, he prefers Cedric. Mr. Diggory is honestly and simply a good student who is not as insufferable or as terrible at Potions as nearly every single other student in his Year, including the Slytherins as much as Severus hates to admit it.

Due to the intensity of pride that the Hufflepuffs display, it takes noticeably longer for everyone to settle down even after Mr. Diggory has left the room. When they do, Albus begins to speak. "Excellent, well, we now have our three champions. I am sure that I can—" Severus ends up drowning out the old wizard's speech in favor of surveying the scene around him, specifically Darcy's reaction to everything. He glances down at her with a questioning eyebrow.

From what he can perceive, she is excited for the three who have been selected but is still peeved that the whole ridiculous fanfare is still going to happen. He offers her a hand in support and to simply be able to be somewhat publicly affectionate, which she accepts without hesitation. They share a moment before realizing those around them have gone completely silent. They look up to find that the Hogwarts Headmaster is holding yet another slip of paper in his hands, a new _fourth_ one, and annoyed dread fills Severus. Darcy squeezes his hand, and he knows that she shares the sentiment. As soon as Albus opens his mouth, Severus knows whatever comes out of the older wizard's mouth will not only be unnecessarily irritating as the wizard always is, but also utterly irreparable. Whatever is said next, once said, there will be no going back or fixing things.

 _"Harry Potter."_

Shock consumes the crowd, and every head turns to get a look at the declared fourth champion. Some students even rise from their seats to get a better view. Severus' hand goes slack, and Darcy's hand leaves his. For a moment, one long moment that seems to stretch for lifetimes, all is still and silent. Then the still is shattered as students begin to nervously chatter amongst themselves. There is no applause or celebrating now, only confusion and hints of envy that Severus can detect from students who wish it had been their names that were announced.

Up at the Head table, the staff and judges remain frozen in shock, still very much processing this turn of events. None of them move until Darcy hisses, "Oh, hell, _no"_ under her breath in rage. Severus then lets out an extremely pissed off sigh of resignation that ripples across his chest. Another moment passes before Minerva gets up to whisper something in Albus' ear when Potter has yet to stand.

"Harry Potter!" he tried again. "Harry! Up here if you please!"

Everyone instantly quiets as Harry Potter stands and then slowly makes his way up to the staff table.

For a mere second, Severus is surprised that Darcy has yet to react. Then he hears her breathe out a second sentence under her breath. "No, they're still going to make him go through with it!" Ah, so she had been holding out to see how they'd react to the situation, hoping that they'd let Potter opt out of competing. Once the boy reaches their table at the front of the Hall, it becomes evident that he will be the true fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Then Darcy acts.

"WHAT?" she roars as she leaps to her feet and leans forward to slap her hands violently against the table. Potter slows to stop in response to her exclamation. "NO, you _have_ to be kidding me."

"Ms. Lewis, I assure you I do not jest!" Albus replies. Severus watches the boy, who simply stands in front of everyone awkwardly, obviously unsure as to what his next course of action should be.

"I hope you realize this is your fault, all of you who wanted this tournament to happen," Darcy starts as she aims a heated glare at the staff and judges, specifically ending at Dumbledore. "I hated even the _idea_ of this Tournament, but it's obviously happening anyways. With the proposed age restriction, I had almost allowed myself to hope that older, hopefully more experienced students would be the only ones able to compete, but I _knew_ that something would go wrong. Your _single_ , limited magic age line should _never_ have been the be all, end all precautionary measure, but it was. That's on _you_. Not Harry. Look at his face. You can easily tell that he didn't put his name in the Goblet or even knew it was in there at all. I know you—you're going to make him compete, but if he gets hurt, that's on you," she hisses. Then, instantly losing the stinging venom in her tone and the steely glare in her eyes, she addresses the Fourth Year. "Come on, Harry. Let's go meet the others," she beckons the youth, her voice far less threatening than it was mere nanoseconds earlier.

Potter shuffles over to Darcy, who instantly wraps an arm around his shoulders. Then the two of them follow the path the other three champions had taken into the side room, leaving everyone in hushed awe in their wake.

"Excuse me, but who was that young woman? I don't believe that I've seen her before!" Mr. Crouch asks, cutting into the silence Severus' wife has left in the Great Hall.

"Darcy Lewis, our new Professor of Muggle Studies," Minerva supplies with a smirk.

"She's also my wife," Severus adds. "It would be well within your best interests to refrain from arguing with her and to remain on her good side. Better people than you have gone up against her and lost." After imparting his advice upon the stunned Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, he stands and goes to join Darcy, his robes billowing behind him with each step.

Within the side room, he finds the five of them grouped near the fire, all four of the students listening to Darcy explain the situation. "They said none of us staff are allowed to help you, but since they're forcing Harry to stay a champion and to compete, I've decided that helping you, should you need or want it, is now fair game too. So, if you want my help, I'll help you," she tells them very seriously.

"I shall offer my assistance to whoever is willing to take it as well," he states in lieu of announcing his presence. They startle slightly at his voice and turn as one to look over at him as he pads over to stand next to Darcy. The four champions, even Potter to Severus' mild surprise, all nod and even offer thankful smiles or smirks.

A hurried pair of feet coming near the door announces the arrival of Mr. Bagman a second later. Then the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports strides up the Fourth Years champion and takes him by the arm. "Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary! Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce—incredible though it may seem—the _fourth_ Triwizard champion!" he announces.

"We know. Ms. Lewis 'as already told us. It 'as to be a mistake! 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young!" Ms. Delacour exclaims in response to Bagman's useless declaration.

"Well…it is amazing," Bagman says with a smile, "but as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the Goblet…I mean I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…it's down in the rules, you're obliged…Harry will just have to do the best he—" Bagman mumbles in explanation, and Severus sneers at the poor cop out of actually addressing the issue.

However, the man is interrupted by the entrance of Dumbledore, Minerva, Igor, Crouch, and Madame Maxime. At seeing her Headmistress, Ms. Delacour hurries over to her in distress. "Madame Maxime! Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete!" she cries.

"What is the meaning of zis, Dumbly-dore?" the French Professor demands in response to her troubled student.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Igor adds. " _Two_ Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" Madame Maxime seconds this notion. "We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore." At this, Darcy snorts, and Severus watches as she rolls her eyes as well. He smirks. She's been silent until now during the conversation between the school Heads, and he'd become curious as to when she'd interject.

So far, the main theme has been about how many champions Hogwarts has, not their ages, which has bugged Severus and obviously Darcy the most. From the content already shared, the Potion Master also guesses that Igor is about to complain about not being able to bring some of Durmstrang's younger students as potential candidates and that Madame Maxime will agree. It greatly annoys Severus that none of the Heads of Schools have mentioned any concern for the safety of the youngest champion. Nor have they addressed the potential safety issues that would've arisen if the visiting delegates had been permitted to bring younger students. Thankfully, Darcy quickly directs the discussion towards the Issue at hand.

"For all that you waxed poetry that being able to keep anyone under age from getting into your damned age circle, Dumbly, your words meant jack _shit_. That obviously didn't work since Harry is fourteen! I _knew_ something like this would happen, so why didn't you?" Darcy snarls as she enters the conversation. "You're all focusing on the wrong problem here. Yes, a fourth champion is unexpected, but it's his age that should bug you the most, _not_ that there even is one!"

"Professor Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards in the world," Mr. Crouch replies. "We had assumed that his spell would ward off any underaged students."

Severus could swear he can see his angered wise mouth some variety of "yeah, in _this_ world, maybe" before she responds. "Well, obviously, you assumed wrong. Seriously, that was your reasoning? What? Was the other half of your reasoning that not _one_ student would dare go against the Headmaster and his rules? It was, wasn't it? Reality check here. First of all, never assume, especially with something with stakes as high as they are in this situation. Don't get sloppy or lazy like that. It leads to mistakes like this one. Haven't you ever been told to never assume? Anyway, secondly, rules are made to be broken, especially when untold riches and eternal fame are on the line and teenagers are concerned. Everyone knows that. Now, I am definitely not throwing teens under fire here because the same totally applies to adults too, but in this case, it can be said specifically for the students involved in this tournament. I personally know _plenty_ of people who would've figured out a way to get around Dumbly's stupid age-spell easily by the age of twelve, without the explicit use of magic might I add. That simply proves that neither of your reasons behind the very _limited_ precautions were valid and did basically nothing," Darcy lectures.

"Let us solve this mystery as to how Harry's name was put in the Goblet of Fire. Harry?" Albus askes the youngest champion softly.

"No," the youth replies.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No."

"There, you see? Young Harry did not put his name into the Goblet," Albus so _wonderfully_ deduces, the irritating twinkle in his eyes just beginning. Severus holds back a snarl and settles for a low-level scowl.

"Yes, excellent skills of deduction, Albus. We have concluded that Potter didn't put his name in the Goblet, which we'd deduced earlier in this conversation. That does not, however, answer or even _address_ the real method in which his name was successfully entered," Severus drawls.

"That hardly matters now that the boy is actually a true contestant. What matters now is whether he should be allowed as the _fourth_ champion," Igor cuts in. "Mr. Crouch…Mr. Bagman, you are our—er—objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular!"

Everyone quickly turns their attention to the two Ministry Heads of Departments expectantly. Bagman gulps, dabs his nervous face with a handkerchief, and simply looks over at Crouch with the same look. Crouch breathes softly, nods at his fellow Ministry judge, and then speaks with a dry, curt, but also slightly nervous tone. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

When this does not satisfy them, everyone turns to Bagman for either confirmation for a different answer. "Well, Barty knows the rules book back to front," is all he supplies.

In response, Igor grumbles and makes a comment about leaving the tournament altogether.

"Empty threat," Darcy's absolute favorite colleague states as he strides into the room. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?" Alastor Moody clambers his way towards the group, making sure to choose the path _farthest_ from Darcy, Severus notes.

"Convenient?" Igor repeats. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

From there, it snowballs into complaints about Hogwarts being allowed a higher chance of winning and then to the motivation behind someone putting the boy's name into the Goblet, even going so far as to start blaming each other for doing it. Severus stands back and watches with vague interest as the other professors pretty much ignore the students and the true situation at hand to squabble like pretty children. Finally, it is decided that Potter is to compete as a champion, despite the little ( _big_ ) fact that he's only fourteen.

"The first task Is designed to test your daring," Crouch tells the four champions when it's all finally decided. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard…very important…"

As the details of the first task are explained, Severus only just barely listens. His thoughts instead wander to his wife, who has been surprisingly silent the last few minutes. After a few seconds of observing her, he knows that she is absolutely livid about the outcome of this discussion but also recognizes that she can't get them to change their minds. He remembers when he'd first been informed that the Triwizard Tournament would take place. He'd been completely and vehemently against the idea. However, after so many failed attempts to dissuade those in charge from following through, he'd begrudgingly accepted its occurrence. Instead, he'd made a personal vow to ensure the students' safety during the tournament's duration. Now that it has been declared that there are four champions, Severus only repeats his promise to ensure the safety of the students. Knowing his wife, he can easily say that she has most likely come to the same conclusion as well.

Once the details of the first task have been explained as well as they can, given the fact that none of the champions can know what the task actually will entail, it is decided that it's finally time for everyone to retire for the night. Before leaving, Darcy tells all four of the champions, "I don't care what the rules say. If you need help, come find me." Then she struts out with only a nod to him before exiting the room.

When Severus enter their quarters, Darcy is already splayed across their couch. He divests himself of his annoying, heavy black robes, leaving him in a pair of dark trousers and a grey shirt, before he situates himself next to her in the space she's provided as her human pillow. Then, once they're comfortable, Darcy speaks.

"How the _fuck_ did Dumbles not expect something like that?" she muses. She glances up and meets his eyes with a stubborn glint. "Only three champions, all of legal age, are supposed to be allowed, but Dumbles and those two Ministry wacknuts are ignoring that in favor of letting everything be dictated by a little wooden cup. All bets are off now. If _they_ can ignore the rules so that that can let students be put in danger, then I can damn well ignore them to keep those students _safe_. I dare someone to try to stop me."

"I completely agree."

"Great!" Then her expression changes to one of mischief. "Also, seeing Moody defend this stupidity also reminded me to the ferret incident. No, I didn't forget. I just haven't thought of the right way to get back at him. Any ideas—that don't involve turning _him_ into a ferret to get personal experience?"

"I'm glad you finally asked…"

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading!**


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